Where the Light Meets the Shadows
by midwintersilver
Summary: "As long as we're together, does it matter where we go?" Just Harm and Mac, muddling through a relationship with a teenager in tow. (A hint of many pairings, but Harm/Mac is the strongest and the constant.)
1. This Dance

Multichapter disclaimer: No matter how much I wish they were, none of these characters are mine.

A/N: Sure, I've been doing plenty this holidays. There are presents to buy, jobs to apply for, and uni stuff to deal with - but nothing that completely captures my attention like schoolwork. So I figured what better to do, as a time-waster and self-esteem booster, than write an excessively long fanfiction? This, my very first multichap, is the result. Rated M for later chapters (notably Chapter 12.)

(I suspect Harm and Mac's ranks might not be correct for the time period - please forgive and/or correct me.)

* * *

The dancefloor was a haze of couples spinning around him. Bud and a heavily pregnant Harriet rocked gently in the corner, absorbed in a modified waltz which would have looked awkward on anyone else. As he watched a smile broke over the lieutenant's round face, ripples spreading to the corners of his eyes. Harriet's answering grin – the same easy-natured expression she handed to him with case files in the morning, or wore when she held Christmas parties for the JAG clan – lit up the room.

Harm's gaze passed across the floor. The younger officers were painfully correct, their waltzes consistent with years and sub-clauses of military protocol. Given away by their oddly stiff movements and careful hand placement, they reminded Harm of baby giraffes just beginning to find their feet. His eyes plotted a graph of age against ease, towards the top corner of the room where the Admiral and Marcella flowed across the floor, his superior's military posture seemingly built into his physique.

There were no qualms or sore toes there, Harm thought, smiling softly at the thought of AJ and Marcella's rekindled relationship. A few metres to the left of the Admiral, Harm saw Tiner step up to Coates shyly, fiddling with his fingers behind his back. "Jen, would you like to dance?" he asked, releasing a breath immediately as if proud to have got through the sentence without stuttering. Coates concurred with a slight smile and a tip of her head. Harriet had it right – if there wasn't something going on between those two now, there would be soon. Frat regs be damned – they really were a good fit.

He'd been keeping half an eye on the bathroom door the whole time, waiting for Mac to come out. Having seen her dress beforehand, he could understand why she had taken a while. Black, fitted and floor-length, it would have been a nightmare to take off. But now there she stood, cutting an outline he knew like his own and could never ignore. He walked over to her, revelling once more in the magnetic pull he felt whenever they were in the same room. Part of him wondered if he could stop and somehow get there anyway, the draw of opposite charges pulling him across the floor.

Really, he wasn't sure whether he'd be comfortable stopping to test it. The need to be with her manifested like an itch he couldn't scratch until he could feel her warmth beside him. The ache of a Mac-less week was the edge of a dull blade, lukewarm and grating. Even when he was absorbed in something else – flying, TADs – he managed to think about her more regularly than he would ever have expected. Then he had the same desire he did now; to pull her into his arms and onto the dancefloor; to hold her tight and never let her go.

Harm had danced with plenty of women in his time, but dancing with Mac was different. She just seemed so much more. He felt (rather than saw) the brush of her skirt against his leg, the slight warmth of her hand as it rested on his back, the trace of her shoes along the floor. His arms seemed to fit around her perfectly. It struck him as odd that he'd never been this comfortable dancing with his girlfriends – as much as it was fun, it had always required attention, concentration.

With Mac, dancing was as easy as flying, and felt remarkably similar. Whatever usually hung in the air between them was cleared in simple, calming moments as they stepped onto the floor, and suddenly her head on his shoulder not only was everything to him, but was allowed to be. No-one questioned their closeness. They spoke in voices pitched for each other's ears only, and usually nobody wondered, or guessed, or gossiped about what they said. So now, as much as he hated to interrupt the beautiful weight of her in his arms, or bring something down across the easy air between them, was the time to have the conversation he'd been anticipating with excitement and dread in equal parts.

But it was Mac who spoke first.

"I've missed this."

"Dancing like this? Me too. We haven't had much of a chance to recently, have we?"

"No, but it's more than that. I've been avoiding you; it was just too painful. I'm sorry."

"You know I'm guilty of avoidance too, Mac." Her lip twisted in some semblance of a smile. "Maybe that's why I like dancing. It's such a noncommittal activity. All that turning and changing direction… it's made for people who can't make up their minds."

"Or maybe it's made for people who've found their rhythm, and know they'll stick together no matter what's coming."

"So you think Jen and the Admiral are destined to stay together forever?" He flicked his eyes in their direction and got the desired giggle.

"I'm not deigning that with an answer, silly. I think dancing is a manifestation of trust."

Harm nodded his head slightly. "True, but is trust enough? Can you have a beautiful dance with just trust?"

She lifted a finger where it linked with his. "Well, you could argue you need practise, interest, dedication."

Harm raised an eyebrow slowly, and for some reason the familiar expression sent an irrepressible shiver down Mac's spine. She felt the weight of his hand on her back like a fiery brand. "And friendship, and compromise."

"But sometimes it's not as complicated as we think it is."

"Hey, you're the one who makes simple things complicated! Stop stealing my thunder, ninjagirl."

She smiled, and then the expression wavered slightly. "Sometimes we realise we've been complicating things too much."

"The simple dances are the best ones, in the end," he whispered, fully focused on her face. She looked so close to crying he almost reached up to wipe the tears away. "But I think, so often, they're the ones that take the most work."

"You know, I think so too." She smiled through half – tears, spinning with him across the floor.

He looked around the room, realising that it had been nearly an hour and neither of them had danced with anyone else. "Thankyou, Mac. You're by far my favourite dance partner."

"I'd hope I'm always your favourite partner, flyboy!" Just not in the way that matters most, she added silently.

"Of course you are. I trust you with my life, and… more important things than that. But I particularly love dancing with you. It shows what we are to each other."

It felt like a promise, but she made the decision not to read too far into it – not to scare him away. "For what it's worth, flyboy – given a choice of partners, I'd always choose you."

"That means a lot, Mac." He seemed lost for words, silent in the sound of the music and the rhythm of their feet on the floor.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"I'd say they aren't worth that much, but I was thinking about you." The temperature of the air between them seemed to rise a few degrees. "I just, Mac – I love this dance. I love our dance. I just wish it could be like this off the floor as well as on."

"Well you know, flyboy, I think it could." The words slipped out of her mouth without thought, and as soon as they registered she wished she could reach out and pluck them from the air before they hit his ears. He'd run away now, reverse and cloud and obfuscate. Slipped out of the metaphors and double-talk and brought into reality, this conversation wasn't one Harmon Rabb was ever comfortable having. And she didn't need that tonight.

He looked a little shell-shocked, and she held in her sigh, waiting for the inevitable consequences of her inadvertent words. When his response was neither a smooth subject change nor a biting retort, her mind refused to comprehend it for a second. "Really?" he said in a plaintive voice that brought to mind a little boy told his father was coming home.

She was both pleasantly surprised and a little confused. Where could this go next? Hesitantly, she continued with what she suspected the metaphor had been building up to all along. "It might not seem like it, but you know I trust you. With everything I am."

And with his eyes solidly on hers, Harm seemed determined to convince her he was ready to play ball. "I'm sorry if I ever said otherwise, Mac. You've followed me into too much for that not to be true."

"We do have a habit of getting into tricky situations together, don't we? Some people would say with all the life-or-death, arguing and making up, we've been practicing being together for years." She realised she felt strangely at home in his arms, strangely at peace having the very conversation they'd been dancing around for as long as they'd known each other. A flood of relief like cool water slipped over her body. Perhaps it could work this time.

"Before you say anything, I'm telling you right now that I'm interested in you, Mac." The earnestness hadn't gone from his features, but a hint of flyboy arrogance came to join it at these words. She would never try to erase that part of him, but she admitted she enjoyed it when he let the veil fall. There was something good about being able to see all of him at once.

"I know you are. If I'd got any more than "a desirable woman" out of you a few years ago, we might be together now. You're more than a desirable man to me, Harm. A one-night stand would feel worse than what we have now." Hard words, but they needed to be said. She knew the kind of girl Harm had, and the kind of girl he usually kept. She wasn't the latter.

To her surprise, there was venom in his voice as he said "I would never want a one-night stand with you, Mac." Then it disappeared, to be replaced with a more serious tone than she thought he'd ever used. "I'm sorry for that comment, I just couldn't say I loved you at your engagement party. I'd influenced your choice too much already, and it felt so dishonourable… you mean far too much to me to be a one-night stand, Mac. That is," he added, almost an afterthought, "as long as never's not still on the table."

"Never was never on the table. Anger, sadness, resignation… sure. But I regretted it the second it came out of my mouth. Your face… I felt like I had your heart under my foot and stomped on it." She had, too. Looking at the lost boy who had left her at that taxi stand and watching his face harden into the sort of man the CIA hired – the sort of man Harmon Rabb never would be – had felt like acid eating into her chest. Perhaps "never" was true in that moment. But there were so very many true things she could have said without crushing his heart.

"You damn near did, Mac. But if I've got you now… that's all I can ask." He breathed out slowly. That was it, the walls were down. Now what she chose to do with his heart was up to her.

He didn't have to wait long for his answer, as a teary Mac tipped her face up to his to say earnestly "You've got me always, flyboy. You dedicated to forever? Because I am."

He held her eyes with more bravery than he thought he possessed, and she felt like her knees had gone weak when he said "forever is all I want." But he wasn't quite done. "I have one more request, Mac. I'd like to be the one to ask the Admiral for reassignment. I don't want to see you losing everything you've worked so hard for."

"Harm, you are so much more likely to make JAG than me… but you know, there are a lot of things I'd rather do with you now than argue."

He spun her quickly and gave a lopsided smile. "But of course, my dear lady. After all, this is my favourite dance."

She leaned into him.

Heart beats fast,

Colours and promises

How to be brave?

How can I love when I'm afraid

To fall?

Watching you stand alone,

All of my doubt

Suddenly goes away somehow.

One step closer…

Harm looked at Mac and started mouthing the words.

I have died every day,

Waiting for you -

Darling don't be afraid,

I have loved you

For a thousand years…

I'll love you for a thousand more

He dropped his head into her shoulder. Mac wasn't sure, but she thought his face felt wet.

Time stands still,

Beauty in all she is -

I will be brave,

I will not let anything

Take away

What's standing in front of me…

Every breath, every hour has come to this.

One step closer….

Smiling peacefully, Mac thought that perhaps everything she wanted had finally come to her. There had been a whole lot of pain in this story, but she hoped most of it was over now.

She lifted his head, wiped the remaining tears with her thumb, and took her turn mouthing the words…

I have died every day,

Waiting for you -

Darling don't be afraid,

I have loved you

For a thousand years…

I'll love you for a thousand more

… and found herself getting teary too. "Darn, I'm so sentimental," she whispered with a grin. Harm gave a cheeky, lopsided smile and pulled her in closer.

And all along I believed

I would find you.

Time has brought

Your heart to me,

I have loved you

For a thousand years.

I'll love you for a thousand more…

One step closer…

One step closer…

Somehow in sync, they both started humming the melody. Their bodies moved with the music, enfolded in everything they felt for each other.

I have died every day,

Waiting for you -

Darling don't be afraid,

I have loved you

For a thousand years…

I'll love you for a thousand more

And all along I believed

I would find you.

Time has brought

Your heart to me,

I have loved you

For a thousand years.

I'll love you for a thousand more…

As the song ended they both jumped slightly. For a moment the world beyond their little bubble didn't seem real, then it slowly swam into focus. Suddenly both were very conscious of the other couples on the floor, hoping their tears hadn't been too obvious. While they'd somehow found their way to the centre of the dancefloor, most of their friends remained in the corners.

Bud and Harriet sat quietly at a table, Harriet rubbing her belly while Bud looked on. Harm was sure AJ could feel the eyes of curious watchers around the room, but his smile was soft as he spoke to Marcella and he'd drawn her close to his body. Jen and Tiner stood at the punch bowl smiling shyly at one another. It was the point that any other couple probably would have kissed, but the frat reg was an unruly beast.

Then suddenly, Mac's phone rang.


	2. Accident and Emergency

She looked at the caller ID quickly, saw that it wasn't one she recognised and picked up. "Mackenzie," was followed by a whole lot of silence at Harm's end and the slow drop of Mac's face. Whatever it was, it was bad. She grabbed for his hand and he held hers tight, helpless to do anything more than wait for the call to finish.

"I'll come now. I'm not going to sleep anyway, and neither will she." She took down an address, repeating it back to the caller. "Bye. OK." And then she hung up.

As soon as she was off the phone she looked at Harm and said "It's Chloe. Her dad was driving her grandparents home and a drunk truck driver crashed into them. Her dad and grandma died on the crash site, and her grandpa on the way to hospital. She's got no-one."

He saw the desperation in her eyes and said the only thing he could: "I'm coming with you."

"I'll have to go home, get changed, and get some overnight stuff first. We might be there a while."

He was so glad she hadn't fought, hadn't told him 'no.' He realised that after years of being a one-man band, he and Mac had become a 'we': and somehow, even with his arrogant fighter-jock tendencies, he was nothing but happy about it.

"We should tell the Admiral," he said, and realised she was already turning that way. Hating to interrupt his dance with Marcella, Harm tapped AJ on the shoulder and watched his slow turn. The light frown on his face changed to an expression of sympathy when Mac explained the situation.

"I'm assuming you want to go with her, Rabb?'

"Yes, Sir."

"I'm going to let you, on the condition that you try your best to keep me posted. I want you both back by Wednesday if I can; the Miller deposition won't wait."

"Of course, Sir. I'll handle it."

Mac threw Harm a grateful glance, thanking him for taking the onus off her. "Thankyou, Sir."

Harm's hand went to the small of her back by instinct, resting so his body formed half a cocoon around her. "We should say something quickly to Harriet and Bud," she commented.

"Already on it." Harm's face quirked slightly, a sympathetic half-grimace rather than a smile. She realised he'd been guiding her to the Roberts' corner of the floor.

Harriet's face was something when Harm explained. It looked as if she had tears welling up in her eyes already, born of both shock and sympathy. Bud's hand went to his mouth, stifling an "oh, that's awful. I'm sorry ma'am." It was incredibly genuine, Mac thought, and then wondered why she'd even bothered, given 100% of Bud's conversation was.

Suddenly, the severity of the situation caught up with her. She turned to Harm, muttered "we need to go" and started what could be described as a route march out of the ballroom. Harm smiled slightly despite himself. When his Marine came back, she did it in style. Despite what she was facing, despite the high heels and her long fitted dress, he swore every man in the ballroom was watching Mac in that moment. She was "look-at-me" sexy without even trying. He slipped through the fray to catch up.

Harm got to Mac's car slightly before her and opened the door. As she got in, he ducked inside it, grabbed her hand, and squeezed. "I'll be at yours in 40?" He phrased it as a question, waiting for her response.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "It'll take you 20 to get home. How about I pick you up?"

It was his turn to grin. "It's a date," he said, and then manoeuvred out of punching distance as quickly as possible. He could see her sarcastically infuriated face in his mind. In 20 seconds he was in the car and on his way home.

Throwing everything into a bag in as little time as possible was something both of them had done too many times to count. Mac felt like her duffle was open on her bed before she'd walked through the door, and as she took the elevator (damn that dress) up to her apartment she was going through a mental checklist of what to bring. She'd been caught short before, she thought they all had.

Of course Harm was doing the exact same thing halfway across the city, minus the elevator part. Naturally his first concern was for Chloe and his second for Mac. His own wellbeing was pretty far down the list. He thought Mac would have the same ultimate priority – to get to Chloe as soon as possible. She would be aiming to get in and out of her apartment very quickly. It took him longer to get home so this frenzied what-I-need-in-a-bag routine would have to be very quick if he'd have any chance of finding some food for both of them (he knew Mac's stomach, even if she forgot about its needs on a regular basis.)

Harm's timing was perfect. Mac was pulling up just as he got out the door of the apartment building and he more or less slid from one to the other. He chucked his duffle in the back seat where hers already sat and clicked his seatbelt in. Stashing the sandwiches he'd made under the central console, he flicked his eyes at Mac and asked "spoken to her?"

"Chloe?" She answered the question he hadn't really asked with "I haven't had a second to call her yet, but she needs to know we're on our way."

"Sure," Harm replied, his heart aching for the girl he'd spent so much time with, who shamelessly shipped him and Mac despite their most serious protestations, whom he'd come to love much like a daughter. "God, this is so unfair."

"I know. You'd think whoever's upstairs would cut her a break after the life she's had."

The call connected and Harm put the phone on speaker.

"Chloe." She sounded miserable. Harm felt a fissure run down his heart at the crack in her voice. "Hi, honey," said Mac. "We're on our way, but it'll take us a couple of hours. We got out as soon as we could."

"Okay."

"Is there anything I can do right now? We'll need to talk to the police first just to find out exactly what happened, and it might be 6 or 7 before we get to you, but I'll make sure I get through it as fast as possible. That okay?"

Suddenly they heard a flash of the old Chloe. There was a smile in her voice as she said "We. I didn't notice before, but who've you brought with you? Is it Haaarmm?"

"Chloe!" Mac felt a blush rise up her neck. "I've told you, you don't talk about him like…" She looked over at Harm, who was stifling a smile, and realised she'd just admitted Chloe had said that sort of thing before. And, as he would no doubt remind her, her thoughts about the two of them must have come from somewhere…

Chloe giggled over the phone. "It is, isn't it?"

Harm, slightly caught up in thoughts of what exactly Mac had said about him to Chloe, answered absent-mindedly "yup."

"Aaah, so that's why Mac got all embarrassed."

"Pretty much." He smiled slightly, conscious he was treading a line between being cheeky and getting decked. Reluctant to break Chloe's mood, he turned, put his head on Mac's shoulder as close as he could get to her ear, and whispered "do we know where we're going?"

She nodded and responded, "her friend's house. Ellie's mum is looking after her for the moment."

He nodded into her shoulder, finding the movement very familiar, and shifted back to his seat. "Are we there yet?" he demanded in a childish voice, mostly for Chloe's benefit.

Mac's response was somewhat exasperated, probably also for Chloe. "Harmon Rabb, decorated pilot and military lawyer. You sound rather like a five-year-old boy, y'know?"

Chloe giggled through the phone. "You know you two are absolutely perfec…"

Mac interrupted. "Enough of that, thank YOU."

"I was just going to say you'd be perfect to have your own TV show," Chloe responded innocently. "Oh, Ellie's mum says we should get some sleep so I have to go now. Not that sleep is even a possibility, but she's trying to be nice and I don't want to keep Ellie up all night. Will I see you soon?" She sounded hopeful, which, Harm thought, was a distinct improvement on 'miserable' earlier.

"We should be there in an hour and a half," Mac responded, "lots of love, OK honey?"

"Love you too" (or it could have been "love you two") Chloe said sleepily, and put down the phone.


	3. They're Gone

Harm thought Mac quite effectively compartmentalised her thoughts most of the way there. They managed to talk about everything – Bud, Harriet and their beautiful godson, the cases both of them had going, the Admiral and Marcella, Jen and Tiner – OK, he was getting onto a theme there. Maybe there was something significant they were always careful to keep unsaid. But it would be insensitive of him to even think about bringing it up when they were on their way to Chloe, who had just lost her grandparents and her father in one fell swoop. Harm felt so guilty thinking about it that he wanted to do a Dobby and bang his head against the car door, but he thought it might make his Marine a little suspicious.

Oddly enough, the journey didn't seem to take long at all. Before he knew it they were in town, pulling into a gas station where they filled up the car before moving on to the police station. They were met by the polite Colonel Durham, whose impeccable uniform rather impressed both Harm and Mac (who were both in civvies, having changed at their apartments.) Despite his stoic demeanour, he stole occasional yawns behind his hand as he talked them through the situation. He did – politely – ask Mac what relation she was to Chloe, to which Mac responded with "Her older sister, in a sense. I participated in a mentoring program where I was assigned Chloe as my "younger sister," and we've been pretty close since." Wisely, Colonel Durham left it there and began his explanation.

"There was some fog tonight across the state, and a lack of visibility was a real issue in many areas. In saying that, the driver was drunk and ran a red light at a 4-way intersection, crashing into the car as it went across. He was entirely in the wrong and will be receiving three charges of manslaughter in court."

"Have you spoken to Chloe?" Mac asked.

"I have," Colonel Durham responded, "and she gave me a rough outline of the timing of the crash which corroborated with that of the truck driver. She went home with her friend's mum. A station like this in the middle of the night is really no place for a kid."

"I completely agree. And all three of the passengers…"

"They all died, Ma'am. Both the driver and the female passenger on the scene, and the male passenger on the way to the hospital...their injuries were quite severe."

"Do you know what will happen to Chloe?"

"Well, ma'am…" he paused and sighed, as if uncomfortable having to share the information, "we haven't been able to locate any other family. Barring a miracle, the foster system seems a distinct possibility, but I'm sure you knew that."

"I suppose we always hope otherwise," Mac answered. It wasn't really any different than she'd expected. She'd always expected Chloe didn't have any immediate family apart from her father and grandparents (she would have encountered them before now), and where was there a place for a child like that except the foster system? She turned, grabbed Harm's hand and squeezed. "Well, thankyou very much for your time Colonel. You seem to have been very thorough, and I do appreciate that. We should go see Chloe now."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Mackenzie, Mr Rabb," the Colonel said as Harm and Mac rose to leave. "I only wish it could have been under better circumstances."

Harm and Mac dropped into opposite sides of the car in perfect synchrony. A choked, glottal cough could be heard from the driver's side, sounding like an attempt to clear the familiar lump in the throat that precedes tears. Harm's hand reached out and squeezed, and Mac started the car.

They were there. They were finally there, and Mac's heart flipped once, twice, and stilled. She flipped open her mobile to call Ellie's mum and, almost immediately, heard footsteps leading up to the door. They walked in to a kitchen centred around a thick wooden table and lit in shades of butter and orange. "I'll just get Chloe," Fiona explained, and walked up the stairs. A tousle-haired Chloe followed her down a moment later, and Harm could tell the exact moment she spotted them by the tears that formed at the corner of her eyes.

She increased her pace to the bottom of the stairs and then suddenly she was running, socks slipping on the wooden floor and arms stretched out to Mac. A resounding thump could be heard as she reached his partner, and instinctively Harm reached out a hand to steady her. Chloe was wrapped tight around Mac's waist, crying hard into her chest. Mac's fingers moved through her hair in a soothing, hypnotic rhythm. Fiona noted that despite there clearly being something between the two "partners" – they looked at each other with much more intensity than could be explained by a business relationship – Harm held back, giving Mac and Chloe some space. Her respect for him grew resoundingly.

But of course, Chloe hadn't forgotten about Harm. Her face not leaving Mac's chest, she grabbed him and pulled him in with one hand. His arms wrapped around both of them, lips against Mac's forehead and one hand on Chloe's back. Her whimpers turned into wracking sobs, like he was what she had needed to let go. Fiona let herself into the living room, leaving the family on their own in the gold-and-orange light, and closed the door.

"They're gone, Mac!" she said, barely comprehensible between choking sobs. "They're never coming back!" Having lost his father, Harm would like to imagine he understood some of what Chloe felt. But ultimately she had lost all of her blood at one fell swoop, and one of two functional parents could never compete.

He squeezed her tighter at the thought, promising that this girl would feel as safe and loved and adjusted as he could make her. His lips tingled on the skin of Mac's forehead, reminding him of their closeness – but he squashed the thought that they were almost like a family the moment it arose. He had promised himself that whatever he had with Mac would not be jinxed by jumping ten steps in as many seconds. This staircase would be climbed, slowly, one step at the time. It was the only way to stop him falling right back down, and landing on his head to facilitate another stupid comment which sent them back to the start.

Mac was comforting Chloe in a low voice, "I know, honey. I know" as the girl's body tossed in a storm of grief. Harm stroked her hair with his thumb, not knowing what to say – whether there was anything he could say – but wanting to be there regardless. He had promised himself she wasn't going through this alone.

Chloe had wanted to be near them (or Mac, at least) that night, so they booked the last remaining room in the town hotel. Apparently there was some sort of country music festival going on, and everywhere else was booked up. Harm quietly offered to sleep on the floor, leaving Mac and Chloe to the big, comfy-looking bed or the hard sofa in whatever combination they preferred.

Both girls told him he was an idiot and that they'd share the bed. Mac had wanted to sleep on the sofa instead, but she could tell that it worked better with she and Chloe together. There were many words Harm would usually use to describe his marine – feisty, determined, talented, rational, loyal – but he didn't think he'd ever seen her internal strength come out so much as it had today.

It got him thinking about how much he relied on that strength and perseverance to get him through. He supposed he knew, having followed her halfway around the world and had her do the same for him, that they relied on each other, but he had always thought he needed her in a way she didn't need him. He needed her sense, her dispassionate plans, her unflinching loyalty even when she had little faith in the endeavour itself. He needed Mac in a different way that Chloe did, but he needed her all the same.

Suddenly, he felt the need to see both of them. Tiptoeing across the room, grey socks slippery on a wooden floor, he peeked through the crack in the door. The wooden floor creaked and he paused instinctively, holding his breath as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Mac's solid breathing caught, then steadied. He reached the door and realised they were curled quietly around each other, Mac's arm over Chloe and her thumb drawing circles on her back.

Chloe shifted slightly, and Harm could see the tear-tracks down her face. She was stifling sobs that a still-sleeping Mac couldn't see. Harm paused for a moment, feeling like a voyeur, and then turned slowly away. He knew from personal experience that no matter how much he wanted to help, it was better to wait for Chloe to come to him. The image of her pulling him into their hug at Ellie's without moving her face from Mac's chest played through his head. She knew he cared about her, and would continue to do so no matter what – so his job was to stay beside her and wait until she opened up. Ignoring the twinge in his stomach which tugged his feet towards the bed, he concentrated on making no noise as he walked away.


	4. Promise You'll Be Here

The rest of the night was a restless one, and Harm was up early to fetch breakfast. He left a short note in case Mac (who he knew to be a light sleeper) woke and worried, and debated far too much over the correct method of address. "Mac and Chloe" somehow seemed impersonal, insufficient – so he scrawled the informal "girls" quickly and didn't allow himself time to think about it before he was out the door and running to the nearby pastry shop he'd found on Google Maps.

He didn't think he'd ever seen Mac look at him with so much love. Juggling the pastries, the key and a water bottle, he kneed the door open and found her bouncing on her tiptoes on the other side. Smiling slightly, he handed the pastries over and sketched a bow. "For the ladies," he said with a trace of irony, and flicked his eyes up to catch her response. The sardonic eyebrow raise was exactly what he'd expected, but her next move was not. Gesturing for him to come closer with one open hand, she pulled him into a hug of epic proportions. He responded in kind and found a lump forming in his throat at the love he felt for this woman. "Thankyou," she whispered into his shoulder, and his "you're welcome" came right from the bottom of his heart.

It was with her temporary guardians in this mildly compromising position that Chloe surfaced, running one hand through her tousled hair and yawning widely. "Good morning," she said, the sides of her lips stretching wide in a grin. While part of Harm was happy that this distraction was taking her mind off her situation, another part made him feel like he'd been caught in the act. He and Mac separated quickly, the veil of professionalism falling back over their faces as they set the little table for breakfast.

"Tea, Chloe?" Harm asked, now recovered from the slight embarrassment and his heart aching for the little girl.

"Yeah, that would be nice," Chloe answered as she chowed down on a pastry.

"Coffee, Mac? It won't be marine-grade, I'm afraid."

"Do you even need to ask?" Mac responded as her eyes met his. Chloe moved her chair and saw the sparks fly between them, responding with a knowing grin as she turned back to her food.

"Well, I thought you might not want it, made by an inferior squid like me."

"Harm, I'll take coffee wherever it comes from. You know that. Hell, I've drunk bubblehead coffee before."

Thinking of Sturgis' terrible coffee-making skills, Harm turned back to his partner and raised an eyebrow slightly. "Point taken."

Chloe smiled. This banter came so easily to them they could have been a married couple already.

Mac caught the grin and stared Chloe down, which only made the younger girl giggle and turn back to her food. "Milk, sugar, Chloe?" Harm flicked over his shoulder.

"Ah, milk and two sugars please."

"That'll be no sugar," Mac said firmly. "This little one goes hyper if you put sugar in her tea."

"Duly noted," Harm said, turning to look at the very domestic scene as Chloe started to argue with her "big sister." Seeing Mac shoot him a glance, he swallowed a smile and concentrated very intensely on preparing the coffee.

A tea in one hand and two coffees in the other, Harm returned to the table for the spinach muffin he'd bought himself. As he pulled it out of the bag, both Mac and Chloe shook their heads. "Healthy," said Mac in a disparaging tone of voice.

"Disgusting," agreed Chloe, shaking her head.

"Hey," Harm started, but Mac held up a hand.

"Save it," she said lightly, the lift at the side of her mouth taking the sting out of her words. "You knew enough to buy us these," she gestured with one graceful hand to the crumbs adorning her and Chloe's plates, "and at the end of the day, that's all we ask."

Chloe gave a contemplative nod. "It is true that people have the right to make decisions about their own lives," she answered slowly, "so perhaps even if we know we're right we shouldn't force our decisions upon others."

The irony wasn't lost on Harm, but he just smiled into his cup. He had loved Chloe since the day the sassy little blonde walked into his life, her mouthy one-liners hiding an insecure little girl beneath. He knew, of course, that Chloe was endlessly strong, and capable of holding her own among adults and children alike. But that didn't tell the whole story, much as it hadn't with Mac (or, he admitted, his five-year-old self.)

They all needed someone who could see through their cracks, someone to lean on when they were tired of holding up the heavy façade. He realised he wanted to be that person for Chloe, just as he had for Mac. There was nothing he wanted more than to love Chloe until she knew how it felt to be surrounded by love, cocooned in it – so that wherever you went it came with you. He wanted the security he could see in her relationship with Mac to be something she could expect every day, and not just on bimonthly visits.

Mac raised her hand sideways without looking, and Chloe's met it in a well-practiced high-five. "Well said," she smiled, "I'm proud of you, my girl."

Chloe quickly wiped away what looked suspiciously like a tear at that comment. Harm caught the action, but didn't say anything. It seemed to confirm everything he knew about Chloe, and only strengthened his resolve to talk to Mac about it later.

But back to business. Now was the time to have the conversation he suspected both Chloe and Mac were dreading – it was approaching 8.00, and on a normal morning Chloe would be leaving for school. He tested out his telepathic communication skills, begging Mac to start the discussion he wasn't sure it was his place to be having. Thankfully, she seemed to get the message.

"Chlo," she said tenuously, as if testing out the waters, "we don't expect you to go to school today."

"I don't really want to," Chloe admitted, no shake in her voice despite her unenviable situation, "but I think I ought. My friends will probably have seen the crash on TV, and it would be really good to prove to everyone that I'm okay. Plus…" she added with a sigh, "if I go back later I don't want it to be big news."

Harm saw the pride spread like sunrise across Mac's face. Perhaps even he had underestimated Chloe's strength – her resilience and willingness to face the music would frighten some Marines. "That's really impressive, Chloe," he answered without thinking. "I think it's the right decision to make, but I don't think many people would have been strong enough to make it."

Chloe looked up at him as if she had forgotten he was there. Her eyes narrowed slightly as if she was trying to figure him out, and then he saw a satisfied smile flit across her face and hoped that it meant she liked what she saw. "Thanks," she said simply, but her eyes carried a depth of meaning it might have taken others days to decipher. Harm? Mac? They'd been there. They understood.

"Have you got your school uniform here?" Mac asked, loath to interrupt the moment forming between Harm and Chloe (should she tell him Chloe had loved him since day one?) but very conscious of time passing.

Chloe tore herself away from Harm's earnest blue eyes, taking a moment to right herself. "Um…yeah, I think it's in my backpack."

"Go get dressed, my darling." Mac grinned like a mother using an off-limits term of endearment. "You've got a school to get to."

Halfway to the room she and Mac had been sharing, Chloe hesitated. As she turned, the window throwing striped sunlight across her face, she looked like a six-year-old getting ready for the first time. "Harm," she looked at him steadily, then "Mac,"

"Mmm?" They both answered simultaneously, attentively, when she petered off. They had no idea how in sync they were.

"Can you…promise you'll be here when I get home?" And that was when Harm saw her, released from her enclosure for the very first time – the little lost girl who was afraid that they would abandon her as so many had before. Something within him keened at the sight, knowing it was kin to that girl who lived in Chloe's heart and only came out when she trusted people enough to believe they might not break her.

Harm and Mac's eyes were matched in their intensity as they seized upon Chloe's. "Of course," they said at the same time, and then Mac continued "I promise we will be right here when we get home. We're not going to leave you without you knowing exactly what's going on."

And then, satiated, that little flash of something inside Chloe disappeared behind her strong façade and she continued toward the room.

Harm's eyes met Mac's in a gaze that spoke volumes. She's relying on us to be here, they said, and I don't want that trust to be misplaced.

Mac's responded earnestly in the way Harm had come to expect. You know I love her. Of course I agree with you.

Not overanalysing the situation because he knew well enough that Mac had got the message, Harm said – still gazing at her steadily – "we'll talk about this later."

Mac just nodded.

He'd thought earlier that Chloe looked like a fragile, bird-boned little girl, setting off for her first day of school. He hadn't expected to feel like her dad. The passenger seat of Mac's SUV felt too hot, and the leather stuck to his slightly sweaty legs despite the cold which had confronted them when they left the hotel. The emotions he had learned to suppress over long years in the navy roiled treacherously in his stomach – pride, fear, anticipation. He shut them off firmly and zoomed out, seeing the situation as just one piece in a many-layered puzzle, and trying to understand why the girl in the back brought out such protective instincts in him – and why they were particularly strong around the woman in the driver's seat.

He hadn't known paternal instincts for children other than your own existed until now. The police had ruled there was nothing suspicious about the death of Chloe's family, and as such there was no rational reason to be afraid for her. He was, of course, anyway – so he had to chalk it up to emotional investment he didn't think he had. Looking over to his effortlessly strong Marine, he saw the white knuckles on the steering wheel and knew she agreed. This situation, and ensuring they did the best possible thing for Chloe, was taking its toll on both of them. It was like taking their daughter to school for the first time, not knowing how long they'd have with her once they picked her up.

When they dropped Chloe off, the vice on his stomach seemed to loosen slightly. It felt as if an important switch was flicked as he watched Chloe struggle out of the back seat in her backpack and saw the kiss Mac dropped on her forehead. He noticed her lips hovering there like she never wanted to let go, and then Chloe pulled away slowly with a shout that was caught by the wind: "Harm! Mac! See you! Have a good day!" She skipped the drain water on the side of the road like it was her job, and Harm saw his partner's lost look before her shields came down. It was then that something spurred him to reach over, folding her free hand in his as she sat in the driver's seat. She didn't need words, not right then. All she needed was the warmth of his calloused hand in hers and the silent promise that he'd never let go.


	5. Where We End

They drove home in silence, hands still linked by the gearstick – a feeling so natural that when it came time to get out, Harm nearly pulled a muscle trying to disconnect. He turned back to her, then, saw she had done the same, and laughed – a sound that played around the acid in his insides and made his stomach ache. Pulling her hand away with a guilty grin, Mac returned the giggle, and she suddenly remembered what it meant to be with him. This was what she had always wanted: the ease, the love, the satisfaction. She'd found it. Was it a problem she'd found Chloe at the same time?

Mac opened the door to their hotel room and immediately started talking. "I want to adopt her," she said with a gulp, "if they'll let me."

Harm wasn't shocked, and nodded sincerely. "I thought you might."

Mac opened her mouth as if she'd been preparing to plead her case, then closed it again. "You're not surprised?" she asked instead, eyebrows furrowing.

"I can see how much you love her. I love her too." There was an honesty to his voice that she found almost confrontational. This was the truth he valued so highly, the truth that made him excellent in the courtroom. She supposed they did need that now.

"Here's the thing, Harm." She'd wished for a moment to gather her thoughts, but it hadn't come. The fact was that this could be the breaking point of everything they'd found that night in the ballroom. This could be the terrible, irreparable end to her favourite dance. "I know this isn't what you signed up for."

"Sorry?" He looked genuinely confused.

She tried again. "You said you were willing to make this work with me, not with a grief-stricken teenager. This isn't going to be easy for either me or Chloe, and I'm probably not going to be as accessible as I'd like."

Harm nodded. "I know."

Looking at him made her feel like she was kicking to keep her head above water and slowly drowning anyway. The blue of his eyes was stony cold, and in a way that cold was welcoming. "Our lives are going to change a lot, Harm. It's entirely possible that I won't be quite the same person. If you want this to finish here," she said, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach at the thought, "then I understand."

She saw the peace fall over his face – whatever it was, this was a decision he'd made already. She felt even more sick just thinking about it. "Here's the thing, Mac," he said, mimicking her earlier words. "I love her." And he stepped across the room to reach her face, almost making her flinch. "And I love you." A light came into his eyes at the admission, setting them off with cooling fire. Mac felt somehow healed. "I know it's not going to be easy," he continued, "but I think she could be good for both of us…and with any luck it'll be easier to handle the adoption process if we've got each other."

Mac's eyes widened. "You're okay with this? You'd stay with me?"

She saw a tear track down Harm's face as he tilted his forehead against hers. "There's nothing I want more than her and you forever," he said through the lump in his throat. Harmon Rabb was in tune with the responses of his body, and he knew perfectly well that lump normally meant he was overly emotional or very unsure. But today he overrode it. Of all the things he'd done in his life, this was the decision he was most at peace with. This felt the right-est of all.

Her arms came around him like a life-raft in a storm, clutching him so tight her knuckles paled. In the space between their bodies his hot, heavy breath mingled with hers. She started to cry and he smoothed his hands across her back slowly, wishing the spread of pressure could erase her grief. Then she leaned up in slow-motion, her lips only inches from his, and stood on her tiptoes to close the gap.

He felt so at home kissing her that he wondered if his lips had connected of their own volition. The play of their mouths released the ache in his stomach – the ache that had persisted since they got in the car with Chloe – and felt like a brand on his heart. You belong to Sarah Mackenzie. And you love it. He couldn't get enough of her silky hair between his fingers, and she mimicked his movements with her fingers down his back.

The kiss took his breath away, but it also felt like breathing for the very first time. It was the scalding heat of oxygen deprivation which pulled them apart ever-so-slightly, to stand with their foreheads together and chests lifting in time as the taste of love flavoured the air.

Maybe it was that which prompted her to say the words that some part of him craved more than anything. "I love you," she whispered, and then louder, "I love you." She started crying again and he kissed the tears away as they tracked their paths like Jupiter's diamond rain. "God, I love you," she said one more time, caught up in the moment with their closeness like a balm on her soul.

Her inability to let go of him made her feel slightly weak. She should be able to, she knew – should be able to pull back, letting go of the woman as she went and covering her up with the Marine. Part of her wondered if she let go around Harm because she knew he'd always catch her. In any case, the loss of his forehead on hers felt like an icy wall between their bodies. As they walked to the sofa she needed his heat at each step and had to grab his hand like a consolation prize, reminding her he was still there.

Perhaps he had run the gamut of emotions that day, but when they flopped down together, and Mac curled up around him like no lover he'd ever had, all he wanted to do was sleep. He couldn't, though, and instead forced himself to run his thumb over her forehead until her eyes opened. "Mac, sweetheart…" he took a moment to enjoy the candy-flavoured term of endearment which slipped from his lips… "what are we telling her?"

"Damn," Mac sighed, shaking her head as she brought herself back to reality.

"I know. If she wants this, then the best-case scenario is the adoption takes a while to process and they let her live with us in the meantime…" Harm trailed off.

"…worst-case is they won't let us adopt her, and we've got her hopes up only to smash them down again." Mac's eyes fixed earnestly on Harm's as she finished the sentence. "I think we have to tell her we're pursuing it, Harm. We can go get the paperwork today and start the process, but she has to know we're in this with her."

Harm squeezed her hand in understanding. "Okay, we can do that. You'll probably have to pursue it as a singles adoption in your name, right?"

Mac nodded with a sad smile, drawing on the extensive experience with the foster system she'd gained through JAG. "I'm sorry," she said, "I wish we could do it together, but unmarried couples…"

She suspected he'd known the answer all along from his anger-free "I know." She didn't hear the comment he added under his breath… "but I hope it won't stay that way for long."

"So are we going to get paperwork, then?" She said cheerily, pulling Harm up by the hand still connected to hers. She realised in that moment that she hadn't even considered going alone – she was taking for granted that whatever she and Harm did, they did together, and that was how she wanted things to stay.

From the arm Harm briefly slipped around her waist, he didn't seem to have any objection. They continued down to Mac's SUV, reprising their positions from earlier that day, and went off to fetch the paperwork.

By the end of that day they had been to what felt like seventeen different locations, from the police station (where they again met with the ever-helpful Colonel Durham) to the family court. Thankfully Chloe had called them midway through the day advising them of her desire to stay for a study group at school, meaning they didn't need to rush back to pick her up. They had checked on her welfare on speakerphone, of course, which led to a lightly teasing response: "it's been fine. Stop worrying. I'll see you at five."

Apparently (due to her father's lack of a will) the case would go to family court to determine whether Mac was allowed custody of Chloe, and as there were no living relatives or close friends of her family it was more a matter of determining if she was fit to look after Chloe than anything else. To that end, she had to get everything from police checks to proof of citizenship submitted as soon as possible.

Drowned in paperwork up to her eyeballs, she was more than willing to hand some of it over to Harm – who she circumstantially discovered knew almost as much about her as she knew about herself. Every so often he'd throw something over – "Mac? What's your mum's middle name?" or "Mac? Date of your divorce?" but they were things she had to think about extensively herself, and she was incredibly grateful to have him filling in approximately half of the documentation.

Harm was also the one who offered to go pick Chloe up when it was time to do so, saying she could do more with the rest of the paperwork than he could. Mac rang Chloe to see if it was okay, explaining only that she was sorry she had too much paperwork to get on with. Although Chloe sounded fine on the phone, both Harm and Mac concluded she was putting on a brave face, so Harm resolved to cheer her up when he got there. Mac concurred and sent Harm on his own, surrendering to the mass of pages spread out on the little kitchen table in their temporary habitat.

"Hey, Chlo!" Harm said as he pulled into the slipway.

"Oh, Harm," she responded, quickly saying goodbye to the friends gathered around her and responding "tell you later" to their curious looks.

"Sorry, they're just wondering who you are," she said as she slipped into the passenger seat, not wanting to hold up the slipway queue.

"Nah, I get it. Getting picked up by a strange man and all," Harm said with a smile.

He saw Chloe's face fall a little at that comment. "Speaking of," she said, pulling her seatbelt over her shoulder with one hand, "I'll see Mac tonight, won't I?...Sorry, not that I didn't want to see you or anything, but I just…"

Harm saw that sliver of vulnerability poking through again, and moved quickly to counter it. "Don't worry, Chloe, I know exactly what you mean. And yes, you will see her tonight. She asked me to pick up something for dinner. Would you like to come choose it with me?"

Chloe nodded enthusiastically. "Takeaway?"

Harm scrunched up his nose. "Minimal cooking facilities, unfortunately."

"Can we get Chinese?"

"Sure thing. Would you know anywhere good for Chinese around here?"

Oddly enough, it proved the perfect bonding activity. Chloe directed Harm to her favourite Chinese takeaway outlet, and they realised picking out dishes that not only did they both know Mac's favourite (which they said simultaneously, resulting in a "jinx" contest of epic proportions) but also their own favourite dishes were the same. Mac's food safely stacked in the back, an in-depth discussion on the benefits of chow mein was conducted, and no stone was left unturned. Harm's lawyer instincts were enjoying it, and he didn't realise he'd achieved his goal of cheering Chloe up until they reached the hotel.

She leaned across to him, and he was gifted a glimpse of those expressive brown eyes as she said sincerely "thankyou for taking my mind off…" an expansive gesture "…all this. I appreciate it."

With an honesty that rang true through every bone in his body, he answered "you're welcome."


	6. My Girls

Harm didn't need to converse with Mac to realise she'd probably rather leave The Big Conversation 'till after dinner. Unfortunately, with adoption papers spread out all over the table, some difficult questions were bound to be asked – and he hadn't thought to text her when they were close so she had time to put them away. Thus the moment they walked in the door, Chloe's inquisitive eyes scanned from Mac to her passport and driver's license (laid out on the table) to the acres of paper.

"What's all this?" she asked, brow furrowed, as a shocked Mac moved quickly in a futile attempt to pack everything away.

Mac shot Harm a sharp look, but his resulting "sorry" was so sincere she knew she couldn't stay angry for long. "Okay," she sighed, looking at the close-postured Chloe. "Chloe, we have big news."

Harm held up the takeaway bag grasped between two fingers with an apologetic smile. "We have food," he offered hopefully.

Shaking her head ever-so-slightly, Mac gestured to the table. "Why not," she said with a hint of resignation. "We can eat and talk."

It could be deduced from the look on Chloe's face that the news was "big" to her as well. "You want to adopt me?" She said disbelievingly, seizing on Mac, and then switched over to Harm. "You're honestly okay with it?"

As much as her response seemed distrustful and confrontational, both Harm and Mac could see the vulnerable little girl who hid inside Chloe coming through. "We do," Mac answered for both of them, sharing a glance with Harm. "We'd like nothing more than for you to come share our lives."

Chloe looked from one to the other. "You're serious," she said without emotion, more a statement than a question.

Mac looked confused. "Only if you want to, of course," she offered. "It would be a big change for you."

"I can guess what it would involve," Chloe responded, with a look Mac knew meant her mind was going at a million miles an hour. She scrunched up her face. "Are you sure you want to do this? It would be hard, having me in your lives."

Both of them nodded, and Harm took this as his cue to jump in. He thought it was very important that Chloe knew he was a participant in this whole thing, not just a bystander. "We know it would mean a lot of change for all of us," he said slowly, his voice deep and calm. "But we think we'd all adapt, and we know we'd love to have you."

Suddenly, Chloe coughed, spat out her mouthful of noodles, and stood up so violently she nearly tipped over the chair. She didn't say a word at first, just biting her lip and shaking her head furiously. Then she took both of them in, shocked, concerned faces and untouched food, and spat, "you don't want me." With that, she was gone to the room she and Mac shared.

Harm's wide-eyed look was shared by Mac. "Give her a second to calm down," Harm suggested. "She needs to figure herself out before you can try to help."

Mac fumbled for his hand under the table and squeezed it, needing the comfort. "I know," she answered thickly, and swallowed. "That didn't go as well as I'd hoped."

"It never does," Harm said with a far-off look, and she wondered what he was thinking. For her it was years of missed chances and sharp words which came to mind. She squeezed his hand again, and he continued, "but this will be okay."

"Will it really?" She wished she didn't need his strength to prop her up, but something in him had become her salvation.

No longer far away, his eyes seized on hers. "It will, Mac. It will all be okay." And she believed him.

Mac found Chloe curled up in a ball on her bed. She knocked hesitantly before peeking through the half-open door, conscious of the need to offer the teen her own space. "Chloe?" She asked. It was a question, and Mac knew if it was answered with anger or pain she would turn and go away. She hoped, though, that Chloe might be ready to talk about whatever it was that caused the out-of-character outburst. Her stark silhouette at the door waited patiently for a response.

"Come in," Chloe said without changing position. Mac crept tenuously into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Chlo, what's wrong?" She asked gently. "We're worried."

"That's exactly it," Chloe let out on a sigh. "You're worried."

"Mmm, we are." Whatever Chloe's point was, Mac wasn't getting it.

"Look, Mac," she turned now and those familiar eyes seemed to size her 'big sister' up. "There is nothing I want more than to be adopted by you. There is nothing I want more than to live with you and Harm and feel safe and loved and happy. But here's the thing. You're ready to play happy families, and I can't help thinking I'm going to be harder than you guys thought."

Mac's face changed. "Chloe, we want you." Her eyes widened in an expression close to hurt. "We love you, and we're willing to take on whatever that entails."

Chloe's nose scrunched up and lines appeared down the sides. Looking down, she scratched her head with one hand. "I'm not easy, Mac. I'm messy, and this," she gestured between Mac and herself, still not looking up, "would be messy. I think I'd manage to hurt you both, and I don't think you're ready."

Mac leaned in, trying to fathom Chloe's expression and feeling intensely like she was missing something beneath the altruistic speech. Something clicked in her mind as she went over Chloe's words, and she thought out loud: "you're worried we'd get rid of you." The sharpness of the words made her flinch. "You're worried you'd hurt one or both of us, and we'd try to send you back."

She knew she'd hit the nail on the head when Chloe looked up with a shocked expression. The younger girl shook her head no, but her body language had said enough. Leaning forward, Mac cupped Chloe's face in both of her hands, smoothing her thumbs over the soft skin. Her eyes settled on hers. "Chloe, I can't say we've ever had this experience before, because we haven't. But I can promise we will do everything we can to make it work."

Chloe pulled back slightly. She was finding the distractingly comforting warmth of Mac's hands formed a barrier between her mouth and the steel of her thoughts. "You can't promise me that."

The strength of Mac's eyes was both reassuring and threatening. "Chloe," she said slowly, moving her gaze down when the girl tipped her head in an attempt to evade it, "have I ever left you?"

Her response was quick but not conciliatory. "No, but the circumstances were so different, Mac."

Mac knew she was treading a thin line bringing up the past, but it was necessary. "Have you not done things while I've known you, Chloe? Things that you thought would drive me away?"

Chloe was silent for a moment, and then admitted hesitantly "yes."

"Have I ever gone?"

Mac thought she saw a spark of hope light in the younger girl's eyes. "No."

She set out to hammer the point home. "And Chloe, do I generally do things I'm not sure about?"

That response was even faster. With a flick of her nose and a twist of her lip, Chloe answered "no."

"So do you think I would do this if I wasn't sure about it?"

Chloe felt like an overloaded freight train careering down a hill, heading at high speed towards an unknown – unplanned – destination. "Probably not."

Mac tipped her chin up with one hand. "The answer is no, Chloe," she said, her voice as deep and clear as a forest lake. "Harm and I discussed this. We discussed what it would entail, and we decided that we're willing to give it a go. I don't give up easily, Chloe, you know that about me. And you know it about him."

Chloe raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Yeah."

Under other circumstances Mac might have admonished her, but at that moment it was a good sign. The sides of her lips tugged upwards. "So do you think we'll abandon you?" she asked, her words an oblique tracery of a memory yet unwritten.

Chloe looked up, her eyes linking with Mac's and volumes passing between them. "No?" she asked tenuously, a question which sought a response.

Mac met her gaze firmly "no. Chloe, I strongly doubt we'll ever think you're beyond helping. And I love you," she lifted a hand to draw it through Chloe's hair, "so I'm not letting go."

Chloe scooted forward on her knees and threw her arms around Mac's neck. Mac smoothed her hands over the material of Chloe's t-shirt and heard a few muffled words from the face buried in her shoulder. "Chlo?" she asked with motherly concern.

"Yes," Chloe looked up, tearstained face close to Mac's. "Yes, I would love to be adopted by you." She started crying again and her face went back to Mac's shoulder.

At that moment, Harm poked his face round the door and Mac offered a hazy smile. "My girls okay?" he asked, eyes on Chloe's shaking body.

Chloe looked up and caught his blue eyes with her brown, forging a connection which would persist for both their lives. "Yes," she said slowly, strength shining through the tears. "Yes, I'm getting adopted. I'm getting a family." And with that, she stretched her arm out in Harm's direction. He took it as an invitation to get closer and did, coming to sit on the bed beside Chloe and Mac. Chloe reached her arm around him and he held both of them close, his lips in Mac's hair like a benediction as he remembered the night in the red-orange kitchen light that he first felt this could happen.

"My girls," he whispered softly into the night.


	7. Selfish

Chloe was exhausted and fell asleep quickly, leaving Mac and Harm to work on the paperwork far into the night. When he caught Mac's eyes falling closed, Harm made the executive decision that it was time for bed. "Mac," he whispered, rubbing her shoulders, when she demurred, "you'll be exhausted tomorrow."

She swallowed, rubbed her eyes, and went back to work without responding.

"Are you sleeping okay?" he asked slowly, her insomnia being the first thing that came to mind. Her quick look down told him he was right, and he tipped up her chin, finding bags under her eyes he hadn't noticed before. "You didn't sleep well last night," he realised. "Nightmares?"

"Sort of," Mac grudgingly responded.

"Come here," he said, and Mac didn't have the energy to refuse as he drew her into the warmth of his strong arms. "I'm sorry, Mac." He rubbed her back slowly, the circles nearly sending her to sleep. "I wish I could help somehow."

Mac smiled against his shoulder. "You're doing it. And Harm?"

"Mmm?" They were rocking slowly in an echo of 'their dance.'

"Thankyou." She looked up, needing him to understand. "I don't know many men who would do what you've done for me."

Harm smiled, the expression sending shockwaves into her soul. "I told you, I love her too."

"Not only that. We have this big, dramatic conversation about 'us' which we both think is leading somewhere," the slow tip of his head confirmed that, "and then I drag you off to go get my little sister without saying a word. You've just gone with the flow and accepted that she is what's important to me right now, without getting angry that we," she gestured between them, "are losing out."

"Hey, Mac." She looked up. "I know you, and I know Chloe. I want what you want, and this is what you want – hell, what you need – right now."

"Still, how many times have you ever kissed me?"

Harm smiled slightly, and she knew he could tell her the exact number (much as she could him.) "Could count them on one hand."

"See, anyone else in our position would be kissing every other second. You've sacrificed that" – she traced a finger across her lips, and Harm was hypnotised – "for this," she gestured expansively to the hotel room around them. "And I don't know many men who would."

Harm smiled softly. "I've waited this long," he said, "I think I can wait a bit longer. Although right now it is getting very tempting."

"Please kiss me, you idiot," Mac challenged, and before she knew it her eyes were fluttering closed as his lips floated in to meet hers.

The kiss was beautiful, like somehow all their bottled-up love poured out between their lips. But Harm withdrew too quickly, and it felt as if his heart wasn't in it. "Harm?" Mac asked, concerned, as she looked up at him.

"You're going to say it's stupid, but… it feels selfish. This might be what I want, but you need to sleep and the adoption paperwork needs finishing. It's not fair of me to take what I want from you at the expense of both of your welfare."

Mac rubbed her forehead, catlike, against his chest. The motion was both affectionate and teasing. "Harm, I love you for being so selfless." She heard the hitch in his chest at the 'l' word, which apparently hadn't lost its impact. "But I have two responses."

Harm laughed, brought back to his childhood debates. The side of Mac's lip twitched too in acknowledgement of the moment.

"Firstly, this is a relationship," his breath hitched again, and she hoped she wasn't making too many assumptions, "what you want matters too. And secondly," her volume dropped to an almost-vulnerable whisper, "I love you. And do you think there is anything I want more than to kiss you right now?"

"I don't know, Mac," he looked conflicted. "Chloe…"

"Here's the thing," she said, tipping her face up to his. The achingly simple movement made him shiver with love, anticipation and something extra which was especially Mac.

"I love Chloe, and so do you. But this is you," she continued, oblivious to his inner torture, "and this is me. This is what we need."

He nodded slowly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. Their proximity was doing crazy things to his body. "I know."

"Good, we're in agreement then," she said with a familiar twist of the lip which was somehow inherently seductive. Then she moved her weight to her tiptoes and closed the distance, her lips seeming to move toward his in slow motion. He realised that no matter how many times he kissed her, it always felt like the first time.

The ache in his chest evaporated with the pressure of her lips on his. He sighed into her mouth, the fire in his body calming as it melded with hers. His brain seemed to drop to his stomach with the loss of tension, the tingling of his lips becoming the only sense he needed. "Mac," he whispered softly, reclaiming the moment, "I love you."

She traced her lips down the side of his nose, tasting heat and salt. "I love you too, flyboy," she whispered, "I love you too."

"Now," Harm said softly, "you need to go to bed."

"But I don't want to," Mac responded with a childish pout which belied the flushed, clammy warmth of her face.

"Yeah you do," Harm said, scanning from the bruise-like purple under her eyes, which kept falling closed, to her ultra-flushed cheeks. "Wouldn't mind having you with me, though," he said, like a wish he knew wouldn't come true.

But Mac had heard him. "Why not?" she asked, fetching a t-shirt and shorts from her duffel and changing matter-of-factly while he stood in the living area looking confused. "Flyboy, did any of that get through your head?" she muttered. Apparently he was still holding onto his noble mindset, despite her promise that what he wanted did matter – and besides, she wanted it too. With a sigh, she just directed him "go get changed."

He did as asked, still with that slightly confused, faraway look which Uncle Matt had always called 'space cadet.' He returned to a Mac who pulled him down on the sofa beside her, fitting her body against his like a puzzle piece. Arms coming round her in the cold of the winter night, he found himself more at home than ever. Mac agreed. His strong warmth against his back like a promise and most of the adoption paperwork done, she felt like her life was going right for the very first time.

Despite the sofa being hard and rather too small for its occupants, both Harm and Mac slept well that night. Mac woke up with his warm arms around her and her head against his chest, breathing in the scent of his clothing. "Harm," she whispered, leaning up to twitch his nose, and he swatted her hand away like an annoying mosquito. "Harm," she said again, a little louder, and gained a similar response.

Then, just for the hell of it, with the words of the night before playing in her head, she leant up and covered her lips with his. That certainly woke him up and he responded eagerly, if with a little confusion – one hand finding its way to her forehead and the other to the nape of her neck. "Sarah," he breathed huskily into the kiss, and she felt a stream of fire run through her body.

"Harm," she said in a similar manner, and then reluctantly disentangled herself lest Chloe find them in this slightly compromising position. The loss of her touch showed plainly on his face, and for a moment she revelled in the knowledge of the effect she had on him. Then she pulled him up. "Harm, when we left the Admiral said..."

"He wanted us back Wednesday for the Miller deposition. I did call him yesterday, told him how everything was going."

"About the adoption?" Mac was shocked.

"Not in those words. I thought it should probably be you who told that story."

Mac nodded with unadulterated resignation. "I'll ring him this morning." And then, curiously, "do you think he'll be okay with it?"

Harm contemplated the question for a moment. "Inasmuch as it will probably affect your duties, probably not. But in general he's a pretty family-oriented guy, and it's not like Chloe is some kid you picked up off the street." He paused. "Do you think we should wait 'till we get back for the change-of-status announcement?"

"I reckon so. Not looking forward to that one either, honestly." Mac looked about as keen as a rabbit about to be shot.

"Wow, counsellor, you're overwhelming me with your enthusiasm. Lay off a little, will you?" Harm fired back with rampant sarcasm.

"Hey," Mac looked up at him seriously. "You know I'm sure about this, but you also know the Admiral will probably give us hell."

"Just imagine Harriet's response," Harm parried with a knowing smile.

Mac hit the heel of her hand into her forehead at the thought. "God, we really have to go through that."

"We're going to make her year, Sarah Mackenzie." Harm knew he looked forward to the sweet but inevitably irritating enthusiasm about as much as Mac. "Aren't you happy to be responsible for that?"


	8. All I Ask

Mac shot Harm a sardonic look, and the ringing of her phone saved her from offering any other response. "Colonel Mackenzie," she answered regimentally, already walking away from the half-open door so as not to wake Chloe.

Harm took one look at Mac's face and deliberately busied himself making breakfast. "Child Protective Services," she said when she got off the phone, coming to stand next to him so he could feel her heat where their backs overlapped. "We've got our girl."

"They gave us custody?" Mac might have kept her excitement deliberately under wraps, but Harm was doing no such thing.

Mac's face broke into a smile. "Until the court date, she's ours."

Caught in the heat of the moment, Harm lifted Mac by the waist and spun her around. "That's amazing! I'm so happy for all of us."

Mac lifted a hand to run it through Harm's hair. "Thanks, flyboy," she said softly. "I'm happy too."

"Well, I 'spose our first order of business is to tell Chloe, then."

"Tell me what?" Chloe asked, coming out of the door to her and Mac's room with tousled hair and a bright smile. She was markedly earlier than usual, which Harm attributed either to the excitement of the night before or the more recent excitement he'd failed to suppress.

Mac closed the distance between herself and Chloe slowly, brushing a lock of hair off the younger girl's forehead with her thumb before she spoke. "So you know that whether we get to keep you will be decided in family court, but court dates can be a long time coming, and as it is they're booked up" – she flicked her eyes to Harm – "for a couple of months. We were hoping you'd be allowed to live with us in the meantime, but it was far from guaranteed. They just called me to say that we've got you until our family court date comes around."

With a sigh and something that sounded suspiciously like a sob, Chloe wrapped her arms around Mac and squeezed. Pulling back after a moment, she made her way over to Harm who received an equally enthusiastic greeting. "That's amazing," she said, smiling widely. "I'm so lucky to have you both. So do I get to come live with you in DC now?" She sounded genuinely excited at the thought.

Mac couldn't help the smile that broke out on her face at the sight of Chloe's ardour. "Well, we hadn't exactly had a chance to discuss it because you came in almost as soon as I got the call," she raised her eyes to the ceiling teasingly, "but you'll probably come live with me, yes." She looked at Harm quickly, apologising with her eyes for sharing information with Chloe she hadn't yet discussed with him. He caught her look and came to stand beside her, one arm resting around her waist for a second. He seemed happy enough with the decision, which reassured Mac.

Chloe looked appraisingly at Mac. "Which school will I go to?"

Mac shot a wide-eyed look at Harm, then turned back to Chloe. "I have no idea," she said honestly, sounding eager – like she might at the thought of a challenging case – rather than afraid. Then her gaze turned mildly serious. "Is it going to be hard to leave your friends?"

Chloe looked down. "Maybe a little," she said in a small voice, "but DC's going to be the biggest adventure." Mac felt a rush of pride run through her for Chloe's determination to make the best of what would certainly be a difficult situation, but also worried a little that she might be putting DC up on a pedestal.

"Chloe," she tipped the younger girl's chin up to meet her look, "just don't expect too much."

As her face fell, Harm jumped in. "Don't worry, Chlo, we're going to make it the best we possibly can for you," the look of love Mac saw pass from Chloe to Harm at those words struck a beautiful note inside her, "we just don't want you to be idolising the place. DC has its downfalls as well, you know."

"But I'll have you," Chloe said with a simple smile, and something inside Mac knew in that moment that everything would work out for the best.

"Of course you will," she responded, wrapping her arms around Chloe. Harm stepped forward as well, to enfold the little girl in a group hug which made her feel safer than she ever had before.

The sentimental moment was short-lived, however. "Now, I'm hungry. Nutrigrain." Chloe said decisively, extricating herself from Mac's embrace.

"Looks like she has your stomach," Harm said, smiling teasingly at Mac.

"Hey!" She responded, "a Marine's gotta eat!" But she had to admit the suggestion that Chloe might take after her warmed her heart. As Chloe went into the kitchen in search of her sugary breakfast, Mac caught Harm's hand and squeezed. "This is good, you know," she said innocently, happy at last.

"I know," he responded quietly, squeezing back, and kissed her on the forehead to seal the deal.

"Oh," Mac remembered, and pulled Harm back into the small living area. "I need to talk to you later, about where we're going to live."

Mac saw a number of emotions flit quickly across his face. "Okay, let's do it when Chloe goes to school," he offered. "What else do we have to do today?"

Mac ticked the tasks off on her fingers. "I need to make that call to the Admiral, then we should… deliver that paperwork to the family court, work out some options for schools in DC, make sure she's got everything she'll need, pack?" She trailed off with that question, unsure she'd got everything.

Harm gave a low whistle. "OK, we can handle that. You make the call, then we'll do the court first, schools second, and the last two third. Sound good?"

"We'll talk when we get back from the family court." Mac gave a challenging look.

"Okay." Harm nodded. And with that, they went in to eat breakfast.

Mac had to fit her call in the fifteen-minute gap between finishing breakfast and needing to leave for the school run, which gave her a newfound appreciation for working mums.

"Right," she said to Harm, "I'm calling the Admiral," and then stood by the window as she dialled.

"Admiral Chegwidden. Who's speaking please?"

"It's Colonel Mackenzie, sir."

"Hey, Mac. How's everything going? I really need you two back."

"Well, there's been a bit of a twist in the story, sir." Understatement of the century, she thought.

"Am I going to like it?"

"I don't know sir." She channelled Coates' cheerily rebellious demeanour. "I want to adopt Chloe, and she's been given leave to stay with me until at least the family court date."

"I'm sorry, what? You're adopting her?" The Admiral's voice was steely-sharp, everything Mac had come to expect. But met with only a "Yes, sir" on the other end of the line, he sighed as he cooled down. "I should have expected something like this would happen."

"Maybe, sir." Mac gave a helpless shrug she knew he couldn't see. "These sorts of things do tend to follow me."

"Just for the record, give me the justification behind your decision?"

"Sir, I'm the closest thing to family she has left. I love her and I want the best for her, and I think I'm in the position to give her something close to it. For the record, she wants this as well."

"Wait." Mac obliged. She could almost hear the Admiral's mind ticking over. "This isn't anything to do with Rabb, is it?"

"Not directly, sir." Mac deliberately sounded confused, a little worried he might be on to something.

"Let me make that more explicit." Once again, Mac heard the steel in his voice. "Have you and Rabb undergone a change of status that I should know about?"

Silently, Mac asked for Harm's forgiveness. She sighed. "We'd like to talk to you about it in person, sir. But I can assure you the decision to adopt Chloe was not made because of any change of status with Commander Rabb."

"I'll take that as a yes, you have undergone a change of status, and I expect you to come discuss it with me as soon as you return. When do you expect that to be?"

Mac wanted to answer as soon as everything's prepped, but she knew that wouldn't be acceptable to the Admiral. "Probably tomorrow, sir."

"And Chloe will be living with you?"

"Yes, sir." And so will Harm. A little thrill ran through her at the thought.

"I'll see you then, Mac."

"Of course, sir." Mac nodded, again knowing that he couldn't see.

Just as she went to hang up he added "and one more thing."

"Yes, sir?"

It was a quick, gruff comment that she might have missed if she wasn't paying attention. "It's a good thing you're doing," he said, "for Chloe. And as much as I hate the impact it might have on two of my best attorneys" – Mac winced – "I'm glad you're doing it. That's all, Colonel."

"Thank you sir," Mac said, and hung up.

"We need to go, Mac" Harm called as he shepherded Chloe in the direction of the bathroom – apparently she thought it was unnecessary to brush her teeth in the morning.

"Yep, I'm done!" she called back, still reeling slightly from her conversation (or perhaps more accurately, virtual confrontation) with the Admiral.

"Give Chloe two minutes to brush her teeth, and then we're gone." Harm answered in such an incredibly domestic way that she smiled involuntarily. Then, coming back to stand beside her, "what did the Admiral think?"

"Conflicted about Chloe. And conflicted about us." She gave him an apologetic smile.

"You told him?" Harm asked through furrowed brows.

"No, but he guessed and I couldn't lie. He made me promise that we'd talk to him about it as soon as we got back." She looked like she might vomit.

"Hey," he said, rubbing her shoulders. "Are you sure about us?"

"Yes!" she answered so quickly he almost didn't catch the word. "More sure than I have been about anything."

"Then what do we have to be afraid of, Mac? It'll be okay."

"I know, but also I don't."

"That's okay too." He pulled her into his arms and squeezed, reminding her that whatever might happen, he was always there. "We're both here, we're okay, and we're sure. That's all I ask."


	9. Happy or Otherwise

Her head relaxed on his chest, she didn't see Chloe walk in. But Harm did. "Nah, Chlo, you are not going on your phone right now. We're leaving," he said, watching her attempt to escape to the room she and Mac shared. Mac levered her head off his body and went to join them.

Chloe safely delivered to school, and advised to avoid telling her friends too much yet because they weren't sure what would be happening, they drove to the family court to drop off the paperwork – which, uncharacteristically, went without a hitch. For some reason, just opening the door to the hotel room he'd started to think of as "home" caused a lump to form in Harm's throat. He thought they'd got past the obfuscation and miscommunication stage, but he couldn't be sure Mac felt the same way about this as he did – and you had to admit they had a terrible track record with these kinds of conversations. A pessimistic part of him thought the ball discussion was just one massive fluke which wouldn't be repeated any time soon, and this conversation might be the proverbial straw which broke the camel's back. Well, he steeled himself, you never know until you try. "Mac?" he questioned quietly, realising he'd lost track of her whereabouts.

"Just making coffee," she said, and her voice sounded open – undeniably a good sign. "Missed out on it this morning."

"Make one for me too?" Harm asked. The hotel coffee was far worse quality than what he was used to, but if you could get past the taste the kick was the same.

"Already did," Mac said a moment later, walking through to the living area holding a steaming mug in either hand. She handed one over to him and he felt his skin tingle when their fingers touched. For a moment, lost in the pleasure of the sensation, he wondered whether he'd always feel this way when she touched him.

"Earth to Harm," Mac said, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Sorry, I'm here." Harm shook his head to dislodge the cobwebs.

She forced herself to take the first step. It had, after all, been her who initiated this conversation. "Sorry I told Chloe where I thought she'd live without asking you."

"Nah, don't worry," Harm said quickly, shaking his head. "You're the only one with a spare bedroom."

That was the easy part over with. Her voice came out much quieter than intended when she asked, "So where do you think you'll live?"

Harm hesitated, chest aching with confused anticipation. "I don't want to take this too fast, Mac," he said, and watched her face twist into an expression he couldn't identify. He put out a hand to steady her as he continued. "I don't want to rush you, or make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. And I want you to know that no matter how long this takes, I will wait." She heard the echo of a long-ago conversation and felt guilt drop heavily into her gut. He took a deep breath. "But here's the thing – if I had my way, I wouldn't be away from you again if either of us could help it."

Mac nodded slowly, his words taking a while to process. The pressure and heat of his hand on hers were a potent and distracting combination. "You'd like to live with us."

"Yes," his voice was earnest, "but…" he put his free hand up to touch her cheek. "You deserve to be wooed, if that's what you want." He traced his index finger down her temple. "So if you tell me to take this slow, I can do that. I'll live at my apartment for the time being, and we can go out like a normal couple until we're both ready to take the next step."

A smile spread across her face like sunshine after rain. "Crap, what are steps with us."

"We did do this a bit backwards." He matched her grin. "We're not even dating and we've officially got ourselves a kid."

"Maybe slow was never going to work for us," she mused. "We've been together, getting to know each other and fighting this," that familiar gesture between them, "for so long that we were bound to fall in head-first."

Harm raised an eyebrow. "There's no-one I'd rather be down the rabbit hole with."

She grinned, activating the dimpled lines at the corners of her mouth. "I love you, Harmon Rabb," she whispered. "When we get back to DC, will you move in with me?"

His smile was candy-shop sweet. It was sunshine reflecting off snow, the first flower of spring, and a thousand other clichés she normally hated but which would always come to mind when she thought of him. "Gladly," he said, and leant forward to meet her lips. She closed her eyes and scooted over to meet him, needing to feel the hard planes of his body against hers. He tasted like snowdrops and bluebells and sunlight, and she sighed into his mouth. Drawing back to place her forehead against his, she said honestly "This. This is where I belong."

Harm brought his hands around her back and nodded slowly. "I hope you always feel like that."

"Me too."

"Now," Harm said, lifting his head regretfully from Mac's shoulder, "as much as I'd like to stay here forever, we have to do something about schools."

Mac groaned but concurred, lifting her body up with all the strength of a frail 80-year-old and getting out her laptop. "Wishlist?" she asked quickly.

Harm nodded. "Close to you, close to me, good reputation, good sporting and co-curricular opportunities…public or private?"

"I think it'll have to be public."

"We can roll with that." He'd been pulling up schools' websites as he spoke, and now he paused on one which looked good. "What about this, Mac? It almost seems too good to be true."

Mac leant over his shoulder. "It does too. Excellent music, arts and sporting opportunities, great academic rep, limited mid-year spots available… shall I ring them?"

"Do it." Harm nodded slowly. "I don't think we're going to get much better than this."

It took some explaining, but Mac managed to convince the receptionist she reached that she was acting in Chloe's best interests rooting her up midyear. Once the story was told the lady was much more receptive to finding a spot for Chloe, and made multiple inquiries for Mac, promising to ring her back.

It was nearly noon, after they'd made and remade a list of everything Chloe would need to check with her later, that they got the call. Mac brought the phone away from her face as she practically squealed at Harm, "she's got a spot!" Managing to calm herself down, she thanked the receptionist and was advised that Chloe could start the next Monday. They offered all the same subjects – with miraculously similar textbooks – to her old school, and she wouldn't lose any teaching time. Once she'd hung up, Harm grabbed Mac and pulled her close. "It's happening," he whispered into her shoulder.

"I know," she responded equally quietly. "And I couldn't be happier."

It was a very excited pair who greeted Chloe at the end of school that day. She looked from one to the other curiously, and then with barely-suppressed excitement. "I got a place, didn't I?" she asked.

Mac's infectious grin broke out. "Yep!"

Chloe put one arm around each of them and pulled them in tightly. "This is going to be great", she whispered like a promise to herself.

Only Harm heard the sadness behind the words. "Chloe, is everything ok? You know we want to hear whatever you're feeling."

Chloe nodded slightly against his chest. "It's just…" she sighed. "It wasn't so great when I started out here, but I turned it around. I'll miss this place."

Harm tipped his head in understanding. "You've been amazing about the whole thing so far, but we don't expect you to be universally happy all the time."

"Really?" Chloe mumbled with a hint of doubt, head still pressed into the fabric of his shirt.

"Really," Harm confirmed, noticing Mac beginning to catch his concern. Something clicked, just as it had for Mac the night before. "We're not going to back out on you because you're not perfectly happy, Chlo. No one is. All we want from you is a willingness to participate and make a go of this whole thing."

"OK." Chloe seemed to believe him, at least a little. "I'll miss this place, and I'll miss them." She waved in the general direction of her giggling group of friends. "At first, they were what made this place bearable. Now they make it somewhere I like to be."

Mac looked at her with motherly love. "Hey, those friendships don't have to end here, Chlo."

Chloe frowned in disbelief. "Look, Mac, I know that's something everyone says to make people feel better. But it kind of does end here."

Mac wasn't taking that. She traced Chloe's brow affectionately with a thumb, then tipped her head up so Chloe's eyes met hers. "Chloe, do he and I work?"

She didn't need to tell Chloe which 'he' she was referring to. "Aw, come on, Mac. You know you do." Chloe said with all the engagement of a teenager being lectured.

"No, I'm serious. Do you think we work? Do you believe we're good friends?"

"Mac," Chloe said with a knowing smile, "I don't think I could get anything past you if I tried. And the number of times you've saved each other from certain death, with or without the support of your superiors, is insane. You two are more than good friends."

"Good." Mac held Chloe's eyes intently. "We've been apart for months at a time, Chlo. At times we haven't spoken at all. We've hated each other and fought and decided it was over from halfway across the country." Each of those moments had left red-raw sores inside her, but the pain had dulled with time – and in the end it had made them stronger.

"You've always worked together," Chloe said, her brow furrowing dubiously. "You can't possibly have been apart that much."

Mac shook her head at how wrong Chloe was, mind tunnelling back to one experience in particular. "Oh, but we have, Chlo. Do you remember that time you were at my apartment and Harm came to say he was going back to flying?"

Chloe nodded, one side of her mouth quirking upwards. "How could I forget?"

Mac nodded. "He flew raptors on the Patrick Henry for six months." And at the time, it had broken her. She'd felt a thousand times betrayed when he whirled in to her apartment to tell her he'd had his night vision fixed. He'd expected her to be happy for him, when there were only two thoughts playing like a stuck record in her mind: he'd had a major operation without even telling her, and he hadn't changed. She had been hoping the adventurer had found his stop button, that maybe he'd be happy at JAG with her. She'd started to take comfort in his constant presence. And now he had come to her, arrogant and insensitive as the day they'd first met, to tell her he was going back. He'd found a new adventure, one that didn't include JAG – or her. And part of her thought she had lost him forever.

"No." Chloe was more than surprised. Harm thought he might even have seen protectiveness for her 'big sister' in the bitter set of her mouth.

"Yes. I didn't think we'd find our way to each other again, but we did. When we were thrown back together we made it work, and I realised that's what I wanted all along." She was paraphrasing a long and arduous journey to understanding – a journey which had included a million twists and turns not relevant to this story. But ultimately, her words were true. Eventually, they had found their way back together. She had found a way to forgive him for what he'd done, and he had found a way to apologise for putting flying before JAG – before her. Over noodles and late-night case prep, they'd become colleagues and then friends once more. And one part of their relationship had been just the same from the beginning – whatever hovered just below the surface, causing the tingle down to her toes whenever they touched, was ignored in their traditional holding pattern. Ignored, she corrected, only until the ball. They had worked it out. A smile touched her mouth at the thought.

"So you're telling me I can stay friends with them if I want?" Chloe asked, shooting a wistful look over at her soon-to-be former class-mates, who Mac could tell at one glance were an incongruous mix of lipglossed makeup addicts and grubby-kneed soccer players.

"Of course you can. If you like them and you want it to work, you can make it." She turned towards Harm, finding his eyes in a glance loaded with meaning. Somehow he caught her gist, taking a step closer in order to catch her hand and squeeze it. "There are never really endings, happy or otherwise."

Oddly in sync, both Harm and Mattie gave a quiet nod. "Okay," the teenager said with a contemplative expression. "Should I say goodbye before we go home?"


	10. The Strongest Shape

Mac explained that they would probably be leaving tomorrow, and then she and Harm turned away. Chloe and her friends deserved this moment alone - to work through what they were to each other, and say goodbye. It was now that Mac expected the gravity of the move to sink in, and she was ready for tears on both sides.

Without looking at the scene, Harm and Mac could tell Chloe had received an emotional response. This no doubt stemmed from the suddenness of the decision as well as its nature. Little enough was actually said, however, that Mac suspected the potential move had been a major topic of discussion in Chloe's group that day. In a bittersweet way, that was a pleasant thought – both Chloe and her friends had had time to come to terms with this decision, which would make it much easier to say goodbye.

It was a cold afternoon, but the spot she stood with Harm was sunshiny enough to make her want to fall asleep on his shoulder. For the moment, the part of her ruled by military regulations prevented more contact than her hand in his, even in civvies. She satisfied herself with tracing circles on his skin with her thumb, closing her eyes slightly and enjoying the sunlight – and wondered if one day she might be confident enough to kiss him in public.

Somewhere in the dark depths of her pessimistic mind, a little ball of sunshine said it didn't matter how long it took. She and Harm had spent most of their lives together teetering on the edge of something, running backwards with pure desperation as the world turned too fast around them. For the first time, they'd escaped the cycle that gave her perpetual motion sickness. They'd landed, coincidentally or otherwise, on the same page of the same book at the very same moment – and she couldn't expect their whole holding pattern to disappear in under a week.

Perhaps, instead of tormenting herself over not being comfortable with more, she should view her hand in his as the achievement that it was. Suddenly, the tracery of her thumb on his skin took on a different dimension. The whole world narrowed to a pinpoint, and the little fleck of contact was all she could see or feel. She embraced it, feeling the tingling under her thumb and the hills and valleys of his calloused hand, drawing a map to his heart.

"Mac," he complained finally. "How do you make holding hands feel so...sensual?"

She tipped her head up, eyes sparkling with honesty where they met his, and said simply "It is."

He shook his head, the side of his mouth curving in the half-smile she loved so much. "You're mad, Sarah Mackenzie."

"You love me," she challenged cheekily.

"That I do."

Preparation for what Chloe dubbed "The Big Move" was a harrowing process. They had to make the trip she'd been putting off, re-entering her grandparents' house and all the memories it held to retrieve her things. She tried to back out a hundred times in a hundred different ways, but as much as Harm and Mac were sympathetic to her plight they both thought she'd probably need the closure. "Chloe," Mac said, "I love you, and I know this is hard – but you know you have to finish to start again." And finally, tremulously, reluctantly, Chloe agreed with her.

And so the trip was made. It was evening by the time they got there, having organised with the government agency temporarily in control to gain entry. Everything Chloe owned, from knick-knacks and toys to old schoolbooks and makeup, went in one of the many carboard boxes. Harm and Mac helped as much as they could, knowing by the shiver Chloe failed to cover as they entered how much of a toll even being in the house was taking. She appreciated their support, even if Harm kept putting stuff in different boxes and "confusing her organisational system." (Harm smirked at this comment, knowing who was the tidy one out of him and Mac.)

They bought Chloe a few bags and coats for good measure, feeling like it was better to err on the safe side when packing for DC. Anything else, they decided, they could more or less get at home. With Harm and Mac packed and all their food cleared out, they were ready to leave in the morning. Harm felt an odd tug in his chest looking around the hotel room he had called home for several days now. He'd got used to the sight of it covered in stuff – Mac's hairbrush on the vanity, Chloe's Nutrigrain on the table, his briefcase on the floor. Now, stripped of their personal touches, it looked oddly empty. Waiting, he corrected. It looked like it was waiting for the next person to use as a holiday, a getaway, or – like them – a transition to a new start.

Mac, Harm discovered, liked to triple-check everything. He'd never been in the house when she finished packing before, and he had to say it was an illuminating experience. He thought she spent more time looking under the beds, in the cupboards, and around the table that morning than he had in his entire life. "We're never coming back here," she muttered when he complained, and frustrating as it was, he had to admit she had a point. It was worthwhile making sure they'd retrieved everything from a place they might never see again.

Chloe was the other end of the spectrum, flopping on her bed with her phone as Mac came in at regular intervals to make sure she'd packed everything. "Charger?" she'd ask distractedly, an odd sock in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. "Yes, Mac," Chloe would mumble, dragging herself away from the screen. "Toothbrush?" She'd question, on her way to put the iron away. "Yes, Mac, it's in the bag," Chloe would repeat. Finally the younger girl begged him to make it stop, and a slightly amused Harm suggested they might be ready to go now. Mac promised she would be in two minutes, and Harm couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed at the endearing sight of her wandering around their "home" with lost belongings and bottles of water, tidying, cleaning and questioning at every turn. (He made sure to be busy whenever she came past, though. Endearing or not, he valued his head.)

The moment they all got into the car for the long drive back to DC felt unpredictably momentous. As much as he'd understood it theoretically before, it was then – with Chloe strapped into the back seat of Mac's SUV and her stuff all around them – that Harm realised she was theirs for now, and probably for good. It was them who were responsible for feeding her, taking her to school, and making sure she was happy. They would be the ones to look after her, organise her birthday parties, pick her up from soccer practice. He reached for Mac's hand, a lifeboat in a perfect storm. This was really happening.

It was afternoon by the time they arrived, and they rode the elevator silently up to the apartment. "Well," Mac said matter-of-factly as she opened the door, "welcome home."

Chloe had spent plenty of time in Mac's apartment before. It was the site of numerous memories – happy, melancholic, and everything in between. But knowing she was living here for now, the familiar rooms looked somehow new. The light hit Mac's little table, where they had eaten dinner on so many nights, and bounced off the sofa – where perhaps, to Chloe's delight, they had eaten just as many dinners. It traced the spot she had been sitting, painting her toenails, when Harm came to tell Mac he was going back to flying. It spread over the windows that looked out across the city – a view Chloe had woken to on perhaps hundreds of mornings. But Chloe knew it wasn't the light that was different, but her perception of it.

With Mac and Harm at her back and her new home spread out in front of her, she was seeing things differently. It felt like a good, comfortable different – and although whether that lasted was yet to be seen, for the moment she was uncomplicatedly happy. It was a spur-of-the moment decision to reach out behind her with both hands, grabbing Mac's hand with one and Harm's with the other.

She didn't need to look behind her to know that their free hands connected. It was a subconscious movement, now, and a giver of strength. Together, they formed a triangle, with Chloe at the head. That brought her mind back to a google query from long ago, typed into the search bar to obtain material for a maths project. "Why," her younger self had asked, "are triangles the strongest shape?" The mythbusters result had popped up in 0.64 seconds: "because any added force is evenly spread between all three sides." That was them, now. She and her new almost-parents, three points that were stronger connected. Any extra load would be spread evenly between them. And something in her was certain that meant they would be okay.


	11. The Colonel and I

It was twenty minutes before Harm remembered they needed to go see the Admiral.

"Mac," he threw over his shoulder as she unpacked into the (their? his heart thumped) chest of drawers and the laundry basket in equal parts, "did the Admiral say how soon he wanted to see us?"

"As soon as we got back." Mac grimaced in recognition. "We have to go if we don't want to be chewed out from here 'till next Tuesday," she realised out loud, her face pained. "Do you think it's okay to leave Chloe here on her own?"

"Do you trust her, Mac?" His eyes held nothing but honesty, and Mac turned it over for a second.

"Yes." It felt momentous, but she did.

"I think I do too. We'll tell her she's home alone and make sure she locks the door behind us."

Chloe told them they were stupid to be worried about her and promised to be on her best behaviour, "cross my heart." Mac still looked back with badly-suppressed disquiet as they went down in the elevator, but Harm had bigger problems on his hands.

"Mac, honey." She looked back quickly at the sparingly-used term of endearment. "I know you're worried about her, but I need to know exactly what we're telling him."

"Like what?" she scrunched up her nose.

"Like do we tell him we're living together?" Harm knew he was perfectly comfortable with the idea in practice, but he still had to force the words through a wall in his chest.

Mac looked equally anxious. "Good point, hadn't thought of that one," she allowed. "It might be worth telling him everything so we don't get in trouble if he finds out later."

"Yeah, that sounds worse than this," he said with the sympathy of a fellow prisoner. "Having to go talk to the admiral about it could put people off a relationship, all right."

The change in Mac's face would have been invisible to anyone but Harm, but he'd seen the familiar walls go up one too many times. "Sorry, Mac," he said, "too soon. There is absolutely nothing that could put me off doing this. Especially now we've got this far."

He thought he could see the clouds in her eyes clear as she listened. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "I trust you more than that."

"I know. But I can't abuse that trust."

She reached for his hand, tracing the back of it with her thumb. "Thank you," she said, and for a moment he could see to the depths of her soul. "I can tell how hard you're trying."

"Right back at you, Miss Mackenzie." He was smiling. Oddly enough, she was getting fond of his endless variations on her name. They made her feel valued and thought-about.

"You ready?" She gestured to the car, slipping into the driver's seat as he took his place beside her.

"I was just thinking about what's going to happen further down the road."

"What, when Chloe's older?"

"No, when - if - when - we get married." He sounded like he was reconsidering the words even as he spoke them, but once they were out of his mouth it was too late.

She looked taken aback, but recovered quickly. "We'll work it out, Harm," she said, reaching a hand for his warm one and placing them in the now-familiar spot by the gearstick as a substitute for her eyes, which had to stay on the road. She'd decided if this relationship was going to diverge from their holding pattern, her responses to his unexpected statements had to do so first. They didn't have a great track record in that department. "I'll go onto the bench, or you can transfer to the Pentagon, or something. We'll ask for options."

"You sound like it's no big deal." The statement was surprised, with a hint of hope.

"Because it isn't. You and me are a big deal. The compromises and sacrifices we have to make to be together are not."

He squeezed her hand. "God, I love you. Where would I be without your dispassionate plans?"

"Probably dead." She raised one eyebrow. "But I prefer not to think about that."

"Point taken, counsellor."

Maybe the Admiral's office wasn't where either of them would have chosen to spend this afternoon, but here they were.

"Rabb and Mackenzie, reporting as ordered, sir," Harm offered as he came to the door.

"Come in." The Admiral responded with the familiar gruff, steely voice.

They stood firmly to attention, hands almost brushing in the space between their hips, as their superior looked them over. Harm thought he seemed almost disappointed to see minimal difference in their bodies or bearing. "At ease," he finally uttered appraisingly.

They moved to resting stance with military precision.

"The Colonel told me there had been a change of status between you two. Commander, you can confirm this?"

"Yes, sir." In his years under the Admiral, Harm had learnt it was usually better to wait to be asked more questions before offering specifics.

Perhaps today was not one of those times. "Can you elaborate on what exactly this involves, Commander?" The Admiral said with sharp sarcasm.

"Well, sir," Harm forced himself to stay strong despite the lump in his throat, "The Colonel and I have decided to pursue a romantic relationship. We're also living together." He shot a slight glance sideways at Mac.

The Admiral looked mildly surprised, not without his usual fierce intensity. "And when exactly did this change of status occur, Colonel?" He directed at Mac, and she felt rather like a witness being questioned.

"The night of the ball, sir."

"So isn't that a very short turnaround for your relationship to progress to the stage of living together?" The close-ended question was asked with both integrity and intensity, and the Admiral looked mock-shocked in the way Harm would to prove a point to the jury.

"We don't tend to follow the rules, sir." Mac said lightly, sidestepping the question like a truly great lawyer.

The Admiral's anger seemed to have eased, but it certainly didn't disappear. "And have you thought, Colonel," he narrowed his eyes, "about what might happen if this relationship is unsuccessful?"

"We really want to make this work, sir. For Chloe as well as ourselves. But if it should fall apart," she wanted to apologise to Harm, to promise it wouldn't, "we have faith in our ability to pursue a strong working relationship."

"On the topic of Chloe," the Admiral said, like a dog who'd just found a bone, "will you both be adopting her?"

The question could have been directed to either Harm or Mac, but it was Harm who answered. "No, sir. We decided it would be easier for Mac to pursue it as a singles adoption in her name."

"Is that right, Colonel?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where are you living, Commander?"

"At the Colonel's apartment, sir."

"With Chloe?"

"Yes, sir."

The questions had been fired very quickly, leaving them little time to blink - let alone think about their responses. At the end the Admiral leant back in his seat, laying his forearms flat on the desk. Mac had a feeling his pièce de résistance was approaching. "Have either of you got any intention of taking this relationship further than living together in the near future?" He asked slowly.

Harm looked at Mac, then quickly back at the Admiral, and she flashed back to their earlier conversation. "Can you clarify near future, sir?" Harm asked.

The Admiral's next movement was dangerously close to an eye roll. "For your purposes, Commander?" He said as if talking to a recalcitrant schoolboy. "Let's say three months."

Harm nodded in recognition. "I can't promise you anything," he said, "but probably not, sir."

"What about you, Colonel?" The Admiral said, as if daring her to respond in the affirmative so he could chew her out.

"The same, sir," she offered simply and with a slight nod.

"Good," the Admiral sighed, appearing to have finished his examination, and for a moment Harm could see his age in the lines on his face. "We've needed you two around here," he said like a warning.

"Sorry sir." Mac winced.

"I understand you needed to look after Chloe, but I could really have done without both of you leaving at once. You'll be back at work tomorrow, I hope?"

"Yes, sir." Mac answered for both of them, and Harm just nodded in agreement.

"Will I be seeing much of her around here?"

"Maybe, sir?" Mac phrased it as a question. "It depends how many after-school activities she does, and how comfortable we feel with leaving her home alone."

"Is that where she is now?" The Admiral asked with the visage of someone who, despite being in the guise of a boss, was also himself a father.

"Yes, sir." Harm responded quickly.

"I won't keep you too long then," he said. "Just," and he looked at Mac particularly, "please don't let this interfere too much with your duties."

"Duly noted, sir," Mac responded, and Harm nodded again.

"Please talk to me," He looked at Harm this time, having noticed he was cagey on the marriage topic earlier, "before you take any further steps with your relationship."

Harm nodded in understanding. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed, then, and I'll see you tomorrow."

They had almost reached the door, Harm resisting the inexplicable urge to put his hand on the small of Mac's back as they walked out, before the Admiral called them back.

"One more thing, people?"

They turned together.

"Congratulations." He said with a smile, putting aside the exhaustion and the lack of two of his senior attorneys. "It's about damn time."


	12. Hellfire-Hot

It had been a good afternoon, Chloe thought reflectively. For the most part, she had spent it unpacking into Mac's guest room, and organising the classy but impersonal space to make it her own. With posters on the wall (singers, sports players and celebrities alike) and her favourite spotty coverlet on the bed, it was beginning to look like an inhabited space. Harm was amazed at the transformation when he came into check on an uncharacteristically quiet Chloe. "Wow," he said, standing at the door, eyes wide. "Just wow."

"Thanks," Chloe said with a knowing tip of her head which screamed Mac. "I hoped you'd both like it. And don't worry," she continued, seeing the question in his eyes. "I got her permission to put blu-tack on the walls. She said it was fine."

Smiling, Harm nodded his approval. "You've got all the answers, haven't you?" he said teasingly.

"Of course." Chloe arched an eyebrow. "I'm a woman, Harm, we always know the answer."

Harm muttered something under his breath. It sounded like "isn't that right."

He turned to leave, and then stuck his head back in as an afterthought. "I was going to ask what you wanted for dinner, Chlo."

"Pizza?" She said with the innocent hopefulness of teenagers everywhere.

"Nice try. Something moderately healthy that I can cook." Harm parried.

"There goes everything good," Chloe said with a mock-pout. Sometimes he did a double-take at how similar her mannerisms were to Mac's. Then, "what about meatballs?"

"I can deal with that," Harm said, already thinking of a recipe for some veggie ones for himself. His girls deserved meat tonight. "I'm going to get some ingredients from the shop, if Mac asks where I am."

"Roger that," Chloe said, something blooming in her chest at his easy trust in her, and the conversations they were able to have already. "Don't be long, I'm hungry."

"Roger that," he threw back, wondering seriously how he was going to live with two Macs in the house.

The massive hug he got from Mac when dinner was announced was worth all the dead animal he'd had to touch preparing it. She nearly swept him off his feet with her enthusiasm, knowing how significant it was that he'd put aside his principles to treat her and Chloe. He closed his eyes in her arms, feeling more at home than ever, and wrapped a hand in her hair before drawing away to serve up.

When Chloe found out he didn't normally cook meat she thanked him as well, apologising for asking for a meat-based dish on her first night with the barest hint of anxiety in her eyes. "Hey," he responded, reaching out over the table. "It's fine, and both of you deserved it." Mac smiled at that, and so did Chloe. "I'm glad I could make my girls happy," he added as they praised the dish.

At that comment, Mac found Chloe's hand under the table and squeezed. She valued it incredibly, the sincere dedication Harm was showing to the pursuit of a goal (she hoped) all three of them desired. Chloe needed to know that this wasn't just Harm and Mac; it was Harm and Mac and Chloe, and both of them intended to keep it that way. As Harm had said earlier, he knew Mac loved her. He loved her too. And Mac decided the message had been successfully transferred when Chloe squeezed back.

The first night of first nights, Harm thought as he changed in the bathroom. He'd been in Mac's bedroom before – in their late-night case file sessions, nothing was sacred – but just like it had for Chloe, the view felt different now. The sliver of carpet and bed he could catch through the half-open door set his heart thrumming wildly in his chest. Attempting to calm it made him feel like a 14-year-old on his first date, though in reality his nervousness on that long-ago day was nothing compared to this. Sometimes maturity made things easier, less scary and more achievable. Sometimes it made them seem even more momentous. And sleeping – really sleeping – with your partner for the first time? That had to be one of the latter.

He felt like he'd been standing in front of the mirror in Mac's pretty bathroom for days. Trying in vain to subdue his thumping pulse, he walked out in his t-shirt and boxer shorts – feeling not remotely ready to face the music. His operational readiness review reduced even more when Mac emerged in an outfit of Marines top and tiny sleep shorts which seemed designed to test him. He didn't realise he'd been staring until Mac asked teasingly, in a voice which echoed back to Russia and a gypsy costume, "like what you see, sailor?"

He found enough voice to respond "do I really have to answer that?"

"No," she said quickly, "but I'd like you to." The unseasoned observer would have noticed nothing but cheeky challenge in Mac's face, but having known her for years Harm saw the flash of vulnerability show beneath.

"Yes," he said, knowing she knew in theory, but needing her to feel it right through to her bones. "God, Mac, of course I do. You, in that outfit," he drew a line in the air from her head to her toes, "seems designed to test my self-control. Now that I think of it," he added with a hint of embarrassment, scrunching up his nose, "you do that in any outfit."

Maybe under other circumstances Mac would have laughed at that comment, or given him a well-deserved ribbing. Now all he saw was the flash of fiery recognition in her eyes, and in two steps they were pulled together, halfway across the room. She reached down at the same time he reached up, and suddenly his lips were on hers, tongue scraping along her teeth as his body drew him still closer. He needed more - more of her mouth which set his on fire, more of her body pressed against his skin, more of her hair and her back in his searching hands. "Mac," he whispered huskily as his tongue clashed restlessly with hers, aching for an unimaginable release.

"Harm," she answered slowly, fingers tight on his back and mouth hellfire-hot on his. He gasped as her tongue probed still further, giving him a hint of a feeling he hadn't known existed until now. He was pressed hard against her, so he couldn't tell where his body ended and hers began. There was no way to express how much he wanted her – needed her – now. But underneath it all there was a layer of something else, something he could see in the way her eyes fluttered closed as she held onto him with such trust.

It was that – that love, that deep, strong, pure, true love – that made this a different experience than he'd ever had before. He could want her and lust for her as much as he wanted; and he certainly did. But he couldn't escape that deep thrum in his chest that reminded him what she was to him. He'd had sex before. He'd had good sex before. Of course he had. But he'd never felt for someone the way he felt for Mac, and that made this more. Together, they were better. Harder. Faster.

Special. He traced the lines of her stomach, hands edging up under the hem of her t-shirt with infinite gentleness. There was spot just under her right breast which made her gasp every time, so he made a point of hitting it as often as possible. When his index fingers traced the skin of her breasts above her nipples, she'd had enough of the frustration. Cheeks flushed, she pulled her t-shirt off over her head and threw it in the general direction of the chair in the corner.

Her fingers, tracing the lines of his back and flicking at his hardened nipples, were just as bad. Every circle of her thumb made tension-filled fireworks erupt in his head. "Damn it, Mac," he whispered into her shoulder, ever-conscious of Chloe in the next-door room, and pulled his own shirt off impatiently. Now he had more of that skin-to-skin closeness he desired – not that the ache was improving at all. Actually, he thought it was getting worse.

"Mac," he moaned as she rubbed up against him, the ache between his legs increasing by the second. "Harm," she threw back at him, flushed and trembling. She saw the question in his eyes and hers asked if he was kidding. "Yes, Harm," she said like he'd just asked if the sky was blue. "Yes." His shaking hands fumbled with the elastic waistband of her shorts, conscious of the gravity of the moment, and then pulled them down in a motion more like a jerky machine arm than the smooth flick he'd perfected in years of flyboy arrogance. He cursed internally. He'd wanted more for their first time than this.

It was then that she looked up, intelligent eyes locked on his, and whispered with that familiar, silky voice "I love you." He took a deep breath, memorising the heat of their flushed bodies, the placement of their hands, and the skin-to-skin closeness he'd craved since he'd fallen in love with Sarah Mackenzie (which, honestly, was a very long time.)

Her palms rested on the inside of his hips, and their proximity to a very sensitive area made him shudder in anticipation. When she caught at the elastic of his boxers, fingers trembling just like his had, and traced her delicate fingers underneath them, he couldn't quench the fire that rose in his body. "Sarah," he said as she drew her hands up the suddenly-tender skin of his thighs. When she paused, facing him, for a moment, he took the opportunity to trace the skin of her chest with his thumbs. She arched into him impatiently, and his fingers and mouth were immediately mapping the soft olive of her breasts, painting patterns across their surface with heat and saliva. She threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut, body shuddering slightly – involuntarily – at his touch.

But while her hands might have been pinned to her sides for a second, they weren't idle for long. His boxers were already uncomfortably tight, and the feather-light brush of her fingers on his shaft increased the pressure until he thought they would snap. The chafing material did nothing to relieve the painful tension which built within him. Formed around his heart, it had dropped slowly from his chest to coil like snakes of molten metal in his core. "Mac," he whispered, the heat in his voice undeniable.

Having her flush against him, with only his boxers and her underpants separating their two bodies, was exquisite torture. A part of him wanted to draw this out as long as he could, so she couldn't help but feel how much he wanted her. His fingers drew gently illuminating circles against her heat, steadying and stimulating, and came away soaking wet. Another, more primal element, which bucked at his tantalising near contact with her red-hot centre, knew the pressure within him could not release until he was inside her. It needed to be closer, to feel more of her around him until nothing could pull them apart.

Whatever it was, that beautiful-evil voice that needed their joining, it spoke to her too. She ripped his boxers off as if the tension had suddenly become too much, and he stepped out of them with rampant impatience. His fingers lifted from the valley between her legs to tug at the elastic of her underpants, and he followed their passage down her legs with his tongue - sparking a giggle or two. There was fire in his eyes when he came up to meet her, and their lips had barely locked before he lifted her up and back, onto the bed.

And then they were together and inside him, something quietly completed. He'd always guessed that Mac would be amazing in bed but the way she rocked against him, her head thrown back and the pressure ever-increasing, made him want to worship her. Each stroke was so much stimulation that his body didn't know how to react. He responded with his tongue on her teeth and his hand on her heat, rubbing insistently in a hypnotic rhythm. "Harm," she said quickly between breaths, heart pumping faster that she had thought possible and fingers clenching tight into his back. "Sarah," he responded like a prayer, tongue barely moving from its home at the roof of her mouth.

She moaned once into his mouth, shuddering slightly as she approached something unimaginable. The strokes grew harder and faster as the tension increased and both of them raced to their release. And suddenly, almost simultaneously, both their bodies spasmed and Harm felt her fingers contract at his back as he collapsed forward onto her sweat-soaked body.

It took a long time for Mac's breathing to steady, but when it did she looked up at him with those river-deep eyes and said simply "wow."

"I know," he responded, arms tight around her to compensate for the unexpected loss he'd felt when their bodies separated. He'd never been a cuddler, but then again neither had Mac. Perhaps there was a first time for everything. He catalogued the experiences one by one. This was their first time, of course - and a mind blowing first time it had been - but it was also the first time he'd felt her blissfully naked body close against his. It was the first time he'd heard his name on her lips like a desperate prayer, but still somehow filled with the love the he knew she returned. It was the first time he'd seen her eyes close as she kissed him and really, truly knew that she trusted him with everything she was.

"Now," she said quietly, interrupting his thoughts, "you're my favourite partner in every way."

The emphasis on the "every" made him smile and lean in to kiss the shell of her ear. "You're funny, counsellor," he said sarcastically.

"I know," she said royally, chin tipped back as far as she could pressed so tight against his body. "My humour is one of my best qualities."

And then he realised he was drifting off already, drifting off ever-so-quietly, feeling safe in her arms and with her in his. His last thought, "we weren't too loud, were we?" was barely spoken aloud.

"I don't think so," Mac responded equally drowsily. "I tried to be quie…" and then she joined him in the land of the tired and sleep-deprived.


	13. Of Course I Am

A/N: I have to say a big thanks to Guest and Cynfenner for pointing out that Harm and Mac's clothes changed magically in the previous chapter - that was a pretty big oversight! Thanks to you guys, it's all fixed now though :)

* * *

Chloe looked rested at breakfast, which reassured the two that they hadn't kept her up with their noises. Apparently they weren't to get away scot-free, though (they should have expected that, Harm would think afterwards.) The young blonde gave a long look between them, and then said in a drawn-out drawl: "sooo…. how was it?"

Very few would have been able to tell whether Mac was genuinely confused or deliberately misunderstanding. Knowing her as well as he did, Harm suspected the latter. "How was what?" She said, shaking her head slightly and drawing it back.

"Last night." Chloe raised an eyebrow.

"It was lovely," Harm said, jumping in at the look on Mac's face. And then, just for kicks, "how did you sleep, Chlo?"

"Oh, I slept fine, I suppose," she said, the side of her mouth quirking up as she looked from Mac to Harm and back. "There were some odd noises."

Harm looked at Mac again, and then turned back to Chloe. "Time to stop, I think, Chloe."

Chloe nodded. "OK. Who's on for orange juice?"

Mac looked at Harm as Chloe went to get the drink from the fridge. "Every so often she surprises me," she whispered, "by being well-behaved."

"Ssshh…" Harm said with a smile. "She's actually been really good since the…"

"Since the accident." Mac nodded. "She has, too. We should take her out for ice cream after school or something."

"That sounds like a lovely idea."

Despite obviously being nervous about changing schools, Chloe handled the experience with discernible grace. Mac was impressed by her brave face as she talked about the idea in the morning, and she got dressed - very classily, Mac noticed - and collected everything she needed quickly enough for them to be there early. When they handed her over to the very friendly principal (who the receptionist had explained was unusually hands-on for what was quite a large school) she hugged them both goodbye with a smile and a promise to tell them everything at the end of the day. Like the last day he'd dropped Chloe off, Harm found himself speaking through a lump in his throat.

"She feels like ours," he said as they got back in the car.

Mac dipped her chin pensively. "She does, doesn't she?"

"I'm really not going to be happy if they try to take her away from us."

"We'll fight it." Mac's eyes were clear. "We can handle it."

Harm's lip curled slightly. "Butch and Sundance ride again."

"Damn right."

Then it was off to work for the illustrious lawyers. Getting around in Mac's car had become so normal for Harm that he hadn't even considered it might set the office abuzz. It did, of course - thanks to Harriet's being in the right (or wrong) place at the right (or wrong) time - depending on who you were talking to - and her slight inability to keep her mouth shut about matters of the heart. Evidently deciding there wasn't enough evidence to confront them after staff call, she waited until lunchtime to begin her interrogation.

"Ma'am," she said with a smile, approaching Mac, "how's Chloe?"

Mac screwed up her face slightly. "Better than I expected, Harriet. She's lost a lot, but she's taking it all so well - new school, new home and all, with no guarantee of any of it being permanent - that…"

"You just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop?" Harriet offered helpfully, still smiling.

"Exactly, Harriet. I worry that she just hasn't faced it yet, you know?"

Harriet nodded in understanding, her blonde bun bobbing behind her. "I understand, ma'am. We felt similar about AJ when little Jimmy was born. We expected it to be bad, but he took the whole thing so well we were living on tenterhooks."

"Jimmy was a really big change for AJ, wasn't he?" Mac said thoughtfully, choosing her food from the café. A part of Harriet wondered if her superior was thinking about starting a family of her own, and she realised this was the perfect transition to the topic which had dominated office conversation since that morning.

"Are you and the Commander considering starting a family, ma'am?"

Mac did a very good acting job looking taken aback by that comment. "Wherever did you get that idea?" she asked quickly.

"You came in the Commander's car this morning, and at the ball you looked a lot closer than usual."

"Oh, trust me, Chloe is enough for us at the moment." And in that second, she knew she had dropped the ball.

Harriet raised one eyebrow at her use of a couple's easy "we," and said, "but you two are together, aren't you? If he's that significant a part of Chloe's life, you expect this to be long term."

"Harriet," Mac lowered her voice, "the easy answer to that question is 'yes.'" Harriet barely silenced a squeal, and actually started bouncing on her toes at the thought. "But here's the thing. I'm not ready for this to be around the office by the end of the day. It's too new and too precious. Do you think you could just - keep it to our little gang for now? Coates, Sturgis, you and Bud? Tell them if you like, but I don't think I'm ready to be everyone's big news."

Harriet nodded understandingly, although Mac knew the move betrayed a lot of enthusiasm. "Understood, ma'am," she said, and Mac hoped she'd abide by it.

By the end of the day, Harm had been congratulated (discreetly) by Coates, Bud, Harriet and Sturgis, and he knew Mac had admitted to someone - most likely Harriet - that they were together. In another life that might have bothered him. He might have felt that the world was spinning too fast and he couldn't keep up, that there would be pressure on him to commit to something he didn't want to. With Mac, he realised, it just felt right.

It was an epiphany of the most explosive and incredible kind. He didn't care who knew about him and Mac. Harriet could tell the whole office if she wanted to. Being Mac's boyfriend, and her being his girlfriend (those terms felt juvenile and insufficient on his lips, and he vowed to do something about it very soon) was the ideal state of affairs for him right now. He was finally ready to commit to someone - in all honesty, that someone was always going to be Mac - and apart from the twist of nervous excitement in his stomach, it felt amazing.

His next concern was for Mac. Had she meant to tell Harriet their big news? Was she happy that at least their gang, and at most the whole office, knew? Unfortunately he was so bogged down with paperwork - paperwork Tiner kept bringing him with teasingly sympathetic smiles - that he didn't have time to see her until the end of the day. Minor consolation could be found in the recollection that they'd promised to finish at 4.45. Chloe needed picking up from the school library at 5, and for the moment at least that was a family activity. Family. A little thrill ran through him at the thought.

Having pushed himself to trek through the piles of paperwork left by the Admiral faster than usual, Harm was exhausted by the agreed hour. "Mac?" He asked, wiping his brow as he knocked on her office door with hollow features.

"Mmm, come in," she said absent-mindedly, and he opened the door to find her still perusing a case file.

"Looks like your work's more interesting than mine," he offered glibly.

"Nah," she looked up properly at that comment, "just this one. The Admiral wanted me to look over it 'as a matter of absolute priority.' I have a terrible feeling he wants to send us both off to investigate."

Harm made a face. "That's not going to be so easy with Chloe, is it?"

"No." Mac's bitter features matched his own. "But as much as I'd ask to split up…"

"We make a good team, Mac." Nodding, he finished her sentence as usual. "I don't want to lose that, and neither does the Admiral."

"Unfortunately," Mac's lip curled in slightly, one cheek dimpling, "neither do I."

"Look, Mac." He stepped forward and placed his hands on her desk, the warmth of his body brought distractingly close to hers. "I promise we will have this conversation." He added it to the mental list of necessary chats, under a discussion of their work status. "But for the moment, we need to go get Chloe."

Mac looked at her watch and jumped slightly. "As usual, you're right, even if I don't want to admit it."

Halfway to her door already, Harm looked back and smirked. "Of course I am."


	14. Any Kid of Ours

Sorry it's been so long between updates! Uni takes much more energy than anyone led me to expect :) Can't promise anything with regards to this story being finished soon, but we'll see how we go.

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And so they went and picked Chloe up, and they took her to the nearest parlour for ice-cream. They were halfway to the door of the shop, lit up with halogens in the dark, cool evening, when Chloe turned, smiled, and reached her hands behind her once more. One fell into Mac's and the other was clasped in Harm's and suddenly, as they kicked at loose pieces of gravel in the tarmac and marvelled at how the town felt like an abandoned industrial park with everything shut for the night, they were together once more.

Harm looked at Mac, and in a flash like the flickering streetlights he realised something. He'd thought they were stabilising Chloe. In the car on the way to DC he'd felt the responsibility drop heavily in his stomach - it was they who had to buy her clothes, and organise her schoolbooks, and comfort her when a boy broke her heart. If she was lost or lonely or hungry or sad it was they who were liable. He'd comforted himself with the thought that they were doing a good thing, and hoped that love would make up for their mistakes.

But now, as they once again formed the strongest shape with Chloe at its head, he thought it was really the other way round. Practically, of course, they were looking after Chloe. But the casual domesticity he was experiencing with Mac, the ease that replaced the acid turn of his stomach when he thought about their future, the apprehension with which he regarded TADs which might take him away from his family - that had all entered his life with the blonde girl who led him fearlessly toward the ice-cream parlour. As much as it was them adopting her, it was her who brought them together and forged their unbreakable bond into something closer, more sincere - more important. He had thought it was his job to make life stable for Chloe. But in reality, it was her who had stabilised him.

"Chloe," he said suddenly, the questioning moniker crisp in the dark evening air.

"Yes," she responded, looking back at him with a twist of her hips and a sparkle in her eye. "We wanted to say thank you," he said without thinking, and the words came as easy as breathing after that. "You've been incredible about this whole thing, and we can see how hard you're trying to make it work. We know this won't be easy, but you're making it easy for us, and we appreciate it."

Chloe twisted fully around without letting go of either hand, but neither Harm or Mac noticed the pain blooming in their arms. "I want to make this work," she said assertively and with a larger dose of seriousness than Harm ever could have imagined. "I love you two." She sighed, gulped. "I love you together, and I love you with me. And I," her eyes sparkled and Harm thought they matched the emerging stars for lustre, "…I think this could be forever."

Mac closed her eyes, wishing for something to give her strength and stop the tears from falling. "Chloe," she said finally, an ache in her chest not from impossibility or pain but the beauty of the moment and all its implications. "Chloe, we're going to be so upset if we don't get forever."

Harm looked over at her with a flash of something deep and honest in his eyes. "I said that to Mac this morning, honest to God. I…" Mac could see him forcing the words past the wall in his stomach, the wall which warned all emotion was weakness. "This is it, Chloe, we love you. And losing you…" he gasped, feeling the pain in his chest. "It would hurt like nothing on earth."

Chloe looked from one to the other, tears gathering in her eyes but somehow defying gravity. "How do you do it?" she asked to no-one in particular.

"How do we do what, Chlo?" Mac answered, and both Chloe and Harm could hear the emotion in her voice.

"How do you love each other," her voice caught as if on ragged wire, "when you know you might not get tomorrow?"

"The only way you can." A car left the carpark, and the streetlight rolled its shadows across Harm's face. "With honesty, intensity, and everything you have."

Chloe looked at him, tracing the side of her eye with a graceful finger. Harm suspected the it came away wet. "How hard is it, knowing that the next investigation might be the last one?"

Harm squeezed his eyes shut and his Adam's apple bobbed at the thought. He and Mac were still holding hands, but now he pulled her closer, his arm finding its way around her waist to press her against his side and assure him of her presence. Mac tipped her head silently into his shoulder. "Impossible," she said slowly. "And I think it's worse when you admit it to each other after so long. When you're dancing," she shot a glance at Harm, thinking obliquely of the ball, "you can pretend it's no big deal. But now," she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the thirst-quenching, tree-flavoured air, "we can't deny it any more, and I think it would break me."

Arm clenched tight around his partner's waist, Harm weighed in. "It's the paradox of everyone with a dangerous job, I think, Chloe. The good of yourself and your family, or the greater good?"

"And which is it?" Chloe questioned tentatively, tipping her head so her eyes met his.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Chlo. I don't know absolutely. But for a while there I thought it was an easy question, and now I'm not so sure."

Chloe released his hand abruptly, and Harm registered that pain had been shooting up his arm through the entire conversation. Then she let go of Mac's and took a wobbly step back. Harm knew that Mac's face mirrored his own; deprivation, confusion, worry. That was, until Chloe barrelled forward and in one movement put one arm around Harm and one around Mac, burying her head in the juncture of their chests. "I've got you, right?" She asked without certainty.

"Always," Harm and Mac said in unison, and then nearly banged their heads as they looked up to match eyes. Harm looked at Mac then - at the deep brown orbs he'd fallen for heart-first, at the worlds they promised and the stories they told. "Always," he whispered slowly, not breaking his gaze, and "forever," she just-barely answered back.

If there was one thing everyone in the military agreed upon, it was the importance of routine. And so getting home that night was met with ground rules for Chloe: she would start doing her homework as soon as practicable after school _without_ her phone in her room, dinner would be at 7.00 and lights out at 9.30. She made them promise that she would be allowed to go out later with her friends on weekend nights, and then reluctantly left her phone on the ledge outside her room as she worked.

"She's a smart kid," Harm said, coming up behind Mac where she worked at the table.

Mac blushed. For some reason, the first thought that had come to her mind was that any kid of theirs would be. Of course Chloe wasn't their kid, but it got her thinking how much she felt like it. "She is," Mac finally said, looking up slightly with the flush still plain in her cheeks.

"What's got you all embarrassed?" Harm asked as he pottered around the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner.

Mac was caught out again, this time subtly appreciating the view from behind. "Ummm…" she shook her head, trying to clear the cotton wool which seemed to pervade it. "Oh, just a stupid thought when you said Chloe was smart."

"Tell me?" For a moment, Harm tilted his head back to look at her, and Mac knew she couldn't resist those puppy dog eyes.

"That any kid of ours would be," she said in a low voice, determinedly going back to her work.

Harm smiled slightly. "I'm going to take that as a compliment." He saw the slight rouge of Mac's cheeks and her decisively bent head and added "but you know they would, Mac. And the nurture bit is going for Chloe as well."

Mac nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, I didn't think of that."

"Mac?" Chloe called as she wandered in from her bedroom, where they'd installed her desk. "Having trouble with this trig. Can you help me?"

Harm shot a glance at his partner. "I've got dinner, you're free to go."

Chloe watched the dynamic she could never get bored of with a smile. "Chlo, just let me finish this form, and then I'm with you," Mac offered, working on the bottom of a bit of paper with an inky black pen.

"'Kay," Chloe responded, "I'll be back in there when you're done."

So this is what it felt like to have a kid, Harm thought idly as he browned leeks in a pan. He suspected he wouldn't have as much time for work as he used to, but this comfortable closeness with Mac and Chloe - cooking dinner in the kitchen while Mac helped Chloe with trig, knowing he loved and was loved - more than made up for it. For the first time, he seriously wondered how Bud balanced being (by all accounts) an excellent and attentive husband and father, with the demands of the job.

At least he and Mac didn't have toddlers. He wasn't sure he could manage that and Chloe and JAG, he thought, and then the ache in his chest began, and he remembered that was what he wanted most. A child with her looks and his brains, or his looks and her brains - honestly, he'd settle with Mac's looks and her brains if they could have something they'd created together. Just the thought of Mac in a hospital bed, exhausted, greasy-haired, with an ID tag on her wrist and holding their little person made him shudder. He didn't think he could be any more in love with Mac than he was already, but he suspected that moment would seal the deal.


	15. Other Responsibilities

New year, new update! Honestly anyone who still bothers to read this chapter despite my inactivity is a saint, and I love you all. I promise I've got plenty more written for you, and I should get some more done this summer, if only to develop my writing skills. If you like it/hate it/have any suggestions, please review!

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Mac emerged from Chloe's room and her stomach growled in welcome. "When's dinner, sailor?" she asked demandingly as she entered the kitchen once more.

"Mmmm… 15 minutes?" Harm estimated, taking his eyes off the pan for a moment but continuing to stir with a wooden spoon. Mac walked up to him then, pulling him into her arms and burying her face in his shirt. Harm's arm came round her back and they let out a simultaneous sigh of contentment, as if the tension was only released when they were together. Perhaps that was true, Harm thought as he flashed back to his musings at the ball. Perhaps they were just magnets, not comfortable to stay in one place until they had linked together. If they were, after all, there were much worse people to be attracted to than the woman in his arms.

Yawning widely after finishing the last of his paperwork for the day, Harm wandered into their bedroom and began to get changed. Mac put down the book she'd been reading for maybe ten minutes already and sat back to appreciate the view. Her eyes traced his movements exactingly, processing the scars on his body and his rippling muscles, flowing down his torso and legs. He turned around midway through pulling a shirt on and smiled beguilingly, which made her heart rate lift more than she'd like to admit.

The thing was, Mac thought, it was far from a purely sexual attraction. She could feel that tug and its warmth when he walked into the break room in the morning, or the meeting room for staff call. Sometimes just thinking of him was enough to set it off - thinking of disaster upon disaster in which he had saved her and she had saved him, forging an unbreakable bond. Now she'd stopped denying it she'd realised its true power, and it continued to surprise her every day.

She loved him - with a mind-bending, soul-spinning singularity which set her teeth on edge and her heart aflame in equal parts. She had fallen for his honour and the laughter in his eyes, for his smile when she was stupid and his arms around Chloe like a barrier to anything that could hurt her. But perhaps most of all she loved him because he made her better. It was a selfish love, but an innocent one. Much the same way as she had tried to shed her past by shedding the people who made it, she would try to own her future by being with the person who shaped it. And it worked. They were better together.

"Mac," Harm offered as he slipped into bed beside her, their 'sides' somehow already defined without thought.

"Mmm," she answered slowly, enjoying the newfound warmth and the body just inches from hers.

"Are you okay with everyone knowing?"

"About us?" Reverie broken, Mac thought for a moment. "Well, I asked Harriet only to tell 'the gang', but I don't suspect that'll hold for long."

Harm's face was serious, but not worried. "Unfortunately, I agree with you."

Mac pursed her lips and squeezed her cheeks slightly. "Yes," she said finally, in a tone that said that came with significant thought. "Yes, I think I am."

"Really?" As much as it reassured him that she was confident in this relationship, Harm hadn't expected that response from his normally private partner.

"mmm." Mac nodded thoughtfully. "I mean, it'll take some adjusting to." She reached for his hand, and wrapped it quietly in hers. "But I don't think I've ever been sure in the past. This is the first thing that I'm sure I want to pursue, and you're the first person I will fight if you try to go anywhere. I want you to be my forever, and I'm okay if other people think you should too."

One side of Harm's mouth curled up and she wanted to kiss him then and there, but resisted. He nodded slightly. "Good. Because if I have my way, forever is what you're getting."

She did kiss him then, leaning in to lick the lips which tasted of mint toothpaste and let her tongue duel with hers. There was that bilateral heat she was becoming familiar with; the passion that possessed her when she got to kiss him like this, and the deep thrum of love underneath it. Eventually they drew back and he fell down on the mattress along with her, fitting her back ever-so-gently against his front. "Sleep tight," he whispered, pressing a kiss to his thumb and the digit to her forehead. "I love you."

He was asleep before he heard her response, sleepily offered to the cool night air which drifted in through the window. "I love you too."

They got called into the Admiral's office early the next morning. As they'd suspected, he had a case for them - the same case he'd wanted Mac to look over the day before. In a highly publicised case, a high-ranking naval officer had been accused of sexually assaulting several female members of his staff. The navy simply couldn't be seen to be any less than brutal on this kind of behaviour, and as such they had demanded "two of the Admiral's best."

"Two of the best they requested," the Admiral said firmly, slapping the case file on the desk between them, "and two of the best they will get." He looked from Harm to Mac in warning. "I understand that one of you might want to stay and look after Chloe. If you absolutely _must_ do so, that's alright with me. But you two have an unmatched reputation among JAG lawyers and the general public (that's what they got for all their accidental publicity stunts through the years, Harm thought wryly)

and you're the best team I've got. Keep that it mind."

Both of them understood the Admiral's words for the warning they were. _If you deny me this,_ they said, _you will disappoint me utterly._ Perhaps Harm should have expected such a severe case of the conflict between career and family to occur early on in this journey, but he had not. "Mac," he started slowly as they walked in step down the hallway, "what are we going to do?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly, catching his eyes with hers and finding the very same conflict she felt in their depths. "It's obviously really important to him - and to the Navy - that he go. But he has other lawyers he could send instead of one or both of us. Chloe has no-one else."

"And for what could be a very long TAD," Harm had been scanning the case file and come to this alarming conclusion, "I'm not really comfortable leaving her home on her own."

"Neither." Mac looked at him sharply. "I'll stay."

"You'll what?" In theory this wasn't unexpected. In practice his partner had just surprised the hell out of him.

"I'll stay." Her eyes were steady. "You offer to go, with Sturgis or Bud or whatever, and I'll stay here and look after Chloe."

"Mac, I hate to say it, but you know this could do things to your career…" He'd heard the warning in the Admiral's words, and he wasn't convinced.

"That's fine, I'll take it. It was going to happen sooner or later anyway."

Harm squeezed his eyes shut, and Mac could see the conflict on his face. "I'm not going to ask you if you're sure…"

"Then don't," she said sharply, and he wondered what he'd done wrong.

"I'll stay," he offered suddenly, with rampant surety. "You're the perfect person for this case, Mac."

"It's not that big a deal, Harm. I'm fine." But he had known her long enough to tell that her face said she wasn't.

"No you're not," he challenged.

"Okay." She stopped in front of him in the hallway, backing him nearly against the wall. "So as much as I love Chloe, I know that staying to look after her would disappoint the Admiral and might affect my reputation and career. Ergo, not fine." She gestured from her head to her toes in a brisk, expansive movement. "But I also can't see any other way out of this, I'm the one adopting Chloe, and I think he'd take me staying better than you."

"Just know," he said steadily, focused on her face, "that I _can_ and _will_ make sacrifices for this too, Mac."

"Good, I'll ask you to make them in due course." Then her voice softened slightly from the sharp tension of earlier. "I'm not angry with you, Harm. I'm angry with the situation. I don't want to fight with you about this, or about anything, and once you're on that TAD we will be okay. The Admiral will come around."

Harm rested his head in his palm for a second, and then suddenly his eyes cleared. He looked around briskly, found no one watching, and then reached for her hand and squeezed. The whole movement was over in perhaps two seconds, but Mac drew an immense amount of comfort from it. "Thanks," she said quietly, her eyes holding layers of sincerity only Harm could understand. "I should probably go tell the Admiral."

"I'll come with you," he offered quickly.

He could see her turn it over in her brain, and then the change in her face as she came to a decision. "Thanks," she said again, and they started back down the corridor.

The Admiral wasn't happy, but Harm and Mac could see that below the layers of military precision and CO bravado he understood. That didn't stop the flicker of hurt on Mac's face when Chegwidden made it clear to her that it was harder to promote someone of her status with "other responsibilities" and (heavily implied) no housewife to care for them. "Understood, sir," she said stiffly, masking the emotion Harm knew she felt.

"Sturgis will be accompanying you, Commander," the Admiral instructed briskly. "Bring him up to speed."

"Yes, sir," Harm responded, and still smarting a little from the (he knew, entirely justified) comments the Admiral had directed at Mac, turned on his heel a little too quickly.


End file.
